


Finding Myself

by Dangerously_Demonic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU of an AU, Alien Culture, Amnesia, By popular demand, Double Life, Gen, I will fight anyone who says otherwise, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), LOKI YES, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Thor Has Depression, loki is still a little shit, loki no, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:03:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangerously_Demonic/pseuds/Dangerously_Demonic
Summary: I don't care anymore if I let you down, I believe that I need to be free.After waking from a five year coma, he seeks to piece together the fragments of his past in hopes of finding out who he is. The name 'Loki' is foreign to him, belonging to a life that remains hidden from him. Yet a concerning question remains at the forefront of his thoughts: are the nightmares that plague him conjured up by a damaged mind, or are they remnants of something far worse?If theyareparts of his past, he isn't sure he wants to remember.I don't know anymore the real me, and I thought that I found myself today.
Comments: 26
Kudos: 42





	1. Sucker's Luck

_Have you given up? Does it feel like a trial?_

When he opened his eyes, the world around him was blurry and out of focus; a flood of information barraged his senses. The light above him felt too bright, while the air smelled sterile and the steady, rhythmic, _beep_ of a monitor felt a decibel too high pitched. He closed his eyes for a moment and reopened them. This time, the world came into a clearer focus and he raised up enough on his elbows to take a better look around.

He was on his back, dressed in loose, soft, neutral colored clothes; the only blue skin visible was of his hands and feet. After a moment longer, he sat up and plucked a device off his temple, prompting the monitor to shift to a continuous tone. He found it annoying and disturbed his attempts to figure out what had happened to land him in this place.

He didn’t get much of a chance to continue his thoughts when a grey skinned humanoid breezed into the room to turn off the monitor, then began examining him. Feeling further annoyed, he slapped away the probing hands. “Stop.”

The doctor made a soft huff. “Can you at least tell me your name?”

He stared at the wall behind the being and struggled to produce a name, but his mental digging came up empty handed. Beyond small, meaningless fragments, he couldn’t remember anything prior to waking up. Mutely, he shook his head.

Slowly, the doctor circled around him in an attempt to continue the exam without touching him. “Don’t want to or can’t?”

“I…Don’t remember.” A part of him hated to admit such weakness, but logically, he knew he had nothing to fear from this person. “I don’t remember anything, actually.”

“That’s not surprising.” Returning to stand in front of him, the doctor peered at his face. “When we found you, you’d suffered severe injuries to your neck. Honestly, we’re surprised that you survived and figured that you wouldn’t wake up. Yet, here you are and you’re sitting up, too. Can you wiggle your toes?”

He found this news to be somewhat concerning, but didn’t voice this. Instead, he did as requested before carefully pushing himself off of the bed, ignoring the concerned noise the doctor made. The cold floor caused him to scrunch up his face in distaste, but he stood there without issue. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some food.”

This snapped the doctor out of her shock before she offered him a pair of slippers out of a drawer. As they walked, the doctor brought him up to speed about his care, then mentioned that they’d taken to calling him ‘Daicid’. It essentially meant ‘unknown’ in their language. Truthfully, he considered it to be as good of name as any and agreed that it would work for a name until such time that he remembered his own.

“How long was I in the coma?” Daicid asked, curiously, as he followed the alien through the ship.

“Five and a half years. We found you floating in space among the wreckage of a ship. Somehow, you managed to survive, just barely.” The doctor briefly looked down, and when she spoke again her voice was softer. “It was right before The Vanishing.”

“The Vanishing?” He glanced over to her, an eyebrow slightly raised.

“No one knows what caused it. Just…All over the galaxy people simply vanished. Turned to dust. Some planets claimed it was half their population, but…” She shook her head. “In any case, five years later? Everyone just reappeared, as if nothing had happened. They hadn’t aged, had no idea what had happened, nothing. All of them remembered the same thing: the final few moments before they turned to dust.”

This news troubled him, as if something nagged at him from the back of his mind, but he finally waved it away since he was grasping at mental ghosts. “Tragic.”

“It really was.”

He barely restrained an eyeroll when his thinly veiled indifference was taken as actual concern…But at the moment, Daicid couldn’t really muster enough energy to care. He had more pressing things to be concerned about, namely who he might be and recovering his memories.

His ‘first’ meal proved to be…Underwhelming, to say the least. Reconstituted, somewhat bland, and borderline disgusting in consistency. Immediately, he knew that he liked the finer things in life, but at the same time also knew that this was the only food available to him at the present time. So, he ate it and happily retreated to his assigned room to get a better look at himself.

Curiously, Daicid stared at his reflection. Black, somewhat curly and fluffy hair that reached his mid-back. A sharp face with high cheekbones covered with what he initially assumed to be ritualistic scars till he touched them. They were quite natural, apparently, and a part of whatever his species might be. Red eyes topped off the whole look. While he had no reason to be, he felt a deep loathing for his appearance, as if it wasn’t quite…_Right_.

He looked down at his hands and flexed them, trying to figure things out. On the palms of his hands were old, round scars; he wondered how he got them. For a brief moment, the blue skin on his hands flickered to something much paler. The sensation tickled, almost like something cold.

It was gone as soon as it had appeared.

“Curious.”

Sleep brought disturbing snippets of dreams that left him drenched in sweat and sitting upright in bed. The brief flashes of faces brought no sense of recognition and faded as his mind woke. While they meant nothing to him, it left him with an overwhelming sensation of something bad had happened. Exhaling, Daicid got out of bed to wash his face.

This ended up being the norm, as did the growing feeling of wanderlust. Finally, when the ship docked at a space station, he slipped off of it and lost himself amongst the throngs of people. It opened up the opportunity for him to essentially travel the galaxy. Money, as it turned out, wasn’t an issue. He had a sharp enough silver tongue to talk most people into doing things for him, and when he wasn’t able to? Well, Daicid proved to be an excellent pickpocket.

Still, his ignorance of his past nagged at him. He wanted to know who he was, what he’d done. But at the same time, he wasn’t _entirely_ sure he wanted to thanks to the nightmares that haunted his dreams. The one of being thrown off an opalescent bridge by a moderately obese, elderly man being the predominant one. Unfortunately, he had no way of knowing if it was memory or just something his mind had fabricated.

In his travels, he heard rumors of many things. Some interested him and caused him to change his wanderings, still others his disregarded as just that: rumors. Yet one immediately caught his attention. A rumor of an ancient, telepathic race whose healers could work proverbial magic on the ailments of the mind. This made Daicid wonder if a visit wouldn’t hurt. After all, he had no idea if his memory loss was a result of injury, willful suppressment, or some other cause.

He didn’t quite know what to expect when the shuttle breached the storm clouds that encircled New Elysium, but a sprawling city composed of almost bio-organic looking buildings hadn’t been it. Daicid couldn’t help but wonder what the inhabitants, Orussid, were supposed to look like. As it turned out? Nothing like he’d ever dreamed.

The creatures easily stood a head taller than him and almost seemed to be humanoid insectoids who stood on digitigrade legs with clawed toes, their long, blade tipped tails swished through different movements as they gestured with their hands. Their matte black exoskeleton had the same biomechanical appearance as the city buildings which clued him in on where they’d gotten the inspiration. However, what unsettled him the most is how they seemed to be blind.

He made his way through the customs queue and stared up at the creature that scanned his passport chip; it made him wonder why they had such strict security. “Is everything in order?”

“How long is your stay?” The creature spoke curtly with an edge of a rasp to its voice.

“I…Don’t know. I was hoping to, perhaps, seek the aid of the healers. I lost my memories due to an accident.”

He was regarded for a moment before the chip was scanned again, then something uploaded to his communication bracelet. The Orussid spoke again. “Fill out the temporary citizenship form and take it to the Citizenship Bureau.”

Just like that, he metaphorically found himself booted out the door and onto the street. He took a half hour to fill out the form, then another hour to find the ‘Citizenship Bureau’. There, he found a more human alien. After he uploaded the form, she quickly glanced it over. “You’re lucky. There’s a few open apartments. You’ll get a weekly stipend for food and other needs, but it’s encouraged that you find work, as the stipend only covers basic needs.”

Bemused, Daicid once more, found himself booted out onto the metaphorical street after documents had been uploaded to his communicator. He really didn’t know what to think about the curt behavior he’d received, thus far. Still, he had a home and a steady income, which was more than what he had to start with since he’d woken up.

The apartment, itself, was surprisingly comfortable although small. It came furnished, and had a combination living-kitchen area, then a separate bedroom with an attached bathroom. All and all, it was just fine for a single person. This left him to unpack and sort through the documents he’d been given. Most of them seemed to be Orussid cultural information.

The first packet explained what different tail movements meant, complete with pictures, something Daicid found fascinating. Then, the information delved into societal things, specifically the hierarchy: the Orussid were a hive mind, ruled by a singular mind. This bridged to the curtness he’d noticed: being telepathic, speech was a learned language for them and arguably difficult…Which actually made a fair amount of sense to him.

Dismissing the documents, he walked to the window and stared out at the light drizzle that had started since his arrival at the apartment. Now, he needed to make up his mind on if he truly wanted to seek out the healers. Afterall, he had no idea if he’d like what they might uncover.

His past was a void, and quite frankly, that void terrified him.


	2. The Seven Sisters

_Alone in this darkness, there's a dream still worth saving. I cling to a promise, and I am still waiting._

Daicid settled into his new life fairly easily. The weekly stipend he received was, as he’d been told, enough to cover food and basic needs, but not much more. Still, he didn’t have any bills to pay and it was, overall, a pretty good situation. This was a good thing since the aspect of finding a job had proven to be difficult, to say the least. With no memory and no sense of self, he didn’t have any idea of his skill set. About the only thing he knew was that he was, _somehow_, fluent in every language he’d come across, so far.

However, thanks to universal translators? That wasn’t really a skill that would serve him well. Sighing, he flicked another job ad to the side. He could, perhaps, get a job at one of the museums. That would certainly be enjoyable, but again, the issue of having no history to speak of popped up. Feeling frustrated, he finally decided to take a break from his job search. Honestly, he was just wasting time till his meeting, anyway.

Due to his application for semi-permanent citizenship, he was required to have a meeting with the ‘Council of Queens’. While New Elysium hosted a large non-Orussid population, most of them were either tourists, traders on ‘shore leave’, or temporary citizens who had work visas. Apparently, the Orussid were picky about who remained, permanently, on their planet.

Rather than continue job hunting, he decided to resume reading the packets he’d been given. In doing so, he discovered a packet that documented the Orussid’s rich history and suspected he’d discovered why they were so touchy about outsiders. After their near complete destruction at the hands of the Asgardians, many thousands of years ago, the Orussid hid themselves to recover. Surprisingly, it caused a sharp shift in the culture towards something more peaceful and exploratory. Only in the past ten years had New Elysium revealed itself to the galaxy at large, thanks to the current ‘Singular Mind’ and leader of the Orussid hive, King Sabaton.

Of course, having a male leader was an absolute rarity among the Orussid, being a matriarchal society. However, being a direct son to one of the most powerful Orussid Queens, Moranna, had proven to be key in Sabaton’s rule. A fact that Daicid found fascinating.

It made him wonder if Royal Orussid looked different from the no-royal Orussid. After all, there were clearly different ‘lines’ in the hive. Much like most humanoid species, the Orussid had different body builds and some even had more than four limbs. A testament to their ability to adapt the DNA of other species into their own.

The sharp chirp of his communicator, reminding him of the upcoming meeting, caused him to frown in annoyance at how his reading had been disturbed. Sighing, Daicid pushed himself off of the couch where he’d lazily stretched out, then went into the bedroom to change into something a bit nicer. While he doubted that the Council of Queens had been granted the ability of sight, he still wanted to look nice since he suspected that they had some other means of vision.

The Council’s chambers resided on the floor of the capitol building which sat at the heart of the city, in the old district. Here, the buildings were almost entirely constructed out of some resinlike material in the strange bio-mechanical design. It seemed darker and more foreboding than the newer parts of the city and left him feeling a bit unsettled. Still, he managed an air of indifference and continued into the capitol building.

Soon, he found himself being led into a chamber. It was moderately lit, not too bright, but not so dark that it was difficult to see and unlike the outside of the building, was a great deal more modern in appearance. Numerous chairs were lined up in rows in front of a half circle table where seven Orussid milled about. Some ate their lunch while others reviewed documents. These were the Seven Queens that sat on the Council of Queens. They were the highest ranking Orussid on New Elysium and only answered to the King.

They helped to manage the hive and handled a lot of the bureaucratic business. As with any group, the Seven Queens had a leader: First Queen S’li. She was assisted by her Sub-Queens: Augra, M’ru, Iroius, Frisa, Stera, and V’ra. Each of them brought a different experience to the metaphorical table and dutifully served their planet.

Curiously enough, he noted an eighth being. This one seemed to be a near perfect half and half hybrid of Orussid and Xandarian. He couldn’t have been any taller than Daicid was and seemed quite out of place. Presently, he sat in a chair he’d dragged over to the table, eating his own lunch. Occasionally, he used his eating utensil to point at one of the Queens, suggesting that he was also telepathic.

Then, just like that, all eight of them focused on Daicid while he focused on the strange hybrid. The man looked even more out of place the longer he looked at him. His red hair, while short, was a bit shaggy and it looked like he’d skipped the idea of shaving for the past few days. The slightly baggy, long sleeve, blue shirt he wore topped off the completely unprofessional appearance.

Of course, Daicid firmly held his tongue since he had no idea if this man held some form of importance. After all, he _was_ casually eating lunch with the Queens. Rather than staring, he chose to drop his eyes down to the Orussid half to see if he could detect any obvious differences. Truthfully? He couldn’t. About the only thing that seemed different was the man’s tail blade seemed longer and more knifelike, but that didn’t mean much. The Orussid had such a wide variety of phenotypes.

Finally, the man glanced over at the Queens and remarked, drily, “You could have told me that you had a meeting.”

“He is early.” Augra noted, boredly, before she went back to her lunch.

“He is the only one seeking permanent residence.” V’ra added.

“…Oh. Still shoulda told me and I wouldn’t have bugged you guys.” Looking back to Daicid, the man gestured at himself. “Sorry. I’m Clayton. I’m basically the guy who translates everything for the Queens.”

Daicid nodded. “The Orussid only speak Galactic Basic and due to their acidic blood, aren’t able to have universal translators.”

Clayton looked surprised, but nodded. “Exactly. So, we get some species who can’t speak Basic or who don’t speak it very well and that’s where I come in.

“I’ve been reading the information packets I was given. Since I want to live here, I thought it’d be best to be familiar with the culture.” He felt pleased that he seemed to be impressing them with his knowledge.

“Well, that’s more than what most people do, but then again? Most people don’t want to live here. Something about the thinner atmosphere and constant rain.” Clayton shrugged and popped a bit of food into his mouth before looking back to the Queens. “Well, do you want me to head off since he speaks Basic or do you want me to hang out since he’s the only one you have today?”

S’li brought up Daicid’s application and tilted her head slightly. “If Daicid does not mind the interview to be informal, and does not mind the Council eating, then we may start it now.”

“I don’t mind.” He stated, quickly.

“Then we begin.” She tapped a button which sent the application to the other Queens. “Daicid. Your application has no errors that we can find, and has the Citizenship Bureau’s approval. However, we wish for you to expand on your reasons for seeking citizenship.”

Daicid looked down at his hands, despite them being blind, he could feel the intense focus of the Queens. “I don’t know who I am. My name, my past, everything, is unknown to me. I was found nearly six years ago in the wreckage of a ship, half dead. I only woke up from my coma six months ago. I don’t know if there was some type of head trauma or not, but the Orussid healers are famed for their mastery of the mind and healing mental injuries. I’m not a fool. Such healing takes time, if it’s even possible.”

“A valid reason for seeking citizenship. Have you found work?” This time, M’ru spoke.

“Not yet. Without knowing my past, I don’t know my skillset.” He sighed and glanced towards Clayton who seemed indifferent to the meeting as he ate. Yet Daicid had the feeling that the other man was paying close attention. “I was considering applying to one of the museums as a tour guide. I’ve traveled around the galaxy in these past few months and I’ve discovered that art and culture is one of the many things I deeply enjoy.”

The Queens fell silent and reviewed his application, again. Occasionally, one would lean forward to look at another, which suggested to Daicid that they were discussing his case. Finally, the Seven Queens directed their focus back to him and S’li spoke once again. “This Council has decided to grant your request due to unusual and extreme circumstances.”

The phrasing seemed…Strange and overly formal compared to how S’li had previously spoken. It made him wonder if she’d been told what to say. Still, he wasn’t about to turn down the very welcome news. Lightly, he bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Daicid stepped out of the capitol building still feeling a bit numb over the ease in which the Queens had granted his request. He’d prepared a mental speech to argue his case, something that hadn’t been needed. Of course, they _were_ telepathic so quite likely they simply took a peek at his mind. Despite this, something nagged at him.

Perhaps it was simply how informal the entire thing had been.


	3. In Time

_I can hear what you're thinking, all your doubts and fears._

It took close to two weeks for Daicid to have his first appointment with the healer, not due to them being busy, but because of him being apprehensive about the whole deal. The nightmares that still plagued him caused him to worry, immensely. If they were fragments of memories? It scared him to think about what else the healer might uncover. For all he knew, he could have been some murderous sociopath. Unlikely as it might be, his concern still remained.

Which is why he couldn’t help but fidget as he waited in the waiting room. The healer he’d picked was in the newer part of the city and the building lacked the bio-mechanical appearance of the Old District, which suited him just fine. Finally, he looked up when his name was called and he all but slinked after the Orussid in front of him. The alien was slightly shorter than the others he’d encountered and he didn’t know if this had to do with age or not.

He found himself directed to a plush, overstuffed chair that practically engulfed him when he sat down. The Orussid sat down in a chair across from him with a slight head tilt. “This One is known as Enul. You stated you have lost all your memories. Is this correct?”

Daicid nodded and looked away. “Everything. My name, my past…Anything before I woke from my coma is gone. All I have left are nightmares and I don’t know if they’re memories or not.”

“A potentially difficult case. This first meeting is to be treated as an informal interaction. Apprehension is normal as memories are private and what is discovered here will not leave this room. We will also take this meeting to establish goals on what you wish to first attempt to uncover and how much. Some prefer to equal parts good and bad memories. Other choose chronologically. It is your choice. However, the mind is complex. One memory may trigger a cascade of other memories.”

So far, Enul seemed to be explaining things quite well and relieved a good part of his concerns. Still, questions bubbled up. “What if this…’Cascade’ happens? What then?”

“It is your choice. Memory recovery is grueling. It is taxing both physically and mentally. Some sessions may last the entire time, others might only last a few minutes. This does depend on the nature of your memory loss, which is another point of this meeting. If it is a result of physical trauma, This One may not be able to fully help you and you will need to be satisfied with what is uncovered.”

He nodded, already aware of that possibility. “A final question, Enul. I’m…Not sure what to refer to you as. Orussid are difficult to tell apart. I don’t mean to offend.”

Softly, Enul rumbled out a laugh. “There is no offense. Orussid are dimorphic, but in many ways only known by other Orussid. Many offworlders are confused. It amuses us and we correct when needed, if we even care enough to do so. This One is female.”

“I see. I’m still learning the Orussid’s attitudes and view points towards different topics.” Daicid sighed and nodded. “We should begin, then.”

“If you are ready.” Lightly, Enul gestured at the chair. “Lay back. It is best when you are comfortable.”

With some hesitation, he shifted the chair so that it was reclining, then stared up at Enul when she leaned over him. Despite knowing that she was there to help him, he couldn’t help but feel a spike of fear. The Orussid’s matte black exoskeleton and perpetual grin with predatory teeth were the stuff of nightmares. When he suddenly felt a warm presence in his mind, the fear turned to guilt since he immediately knew what the warmth represented.

_There is no guilt. We are aware of our appearance and are unbothered. Relax while This One examines._

The gentle voice in his mind caused him a bit of surprise since he’d come to assume that the Orussid where just a curtly spoken race. His thoughts suddenly jumbled and he felt a pressure between his eyes, likely due to whatever Enul was in the process of doing.

_There does not appear to be any damage. Your memory loss appears to either be willful or due to something traumatic. This One will be able to help you, it is a matter of how much you want to relearn._

He exhaled when the pressure stopped. “My name and what I am, to start with.”

_The pressure is normal. Close your eyes and focus on what you want to remember._

He blinked a few times, feeling the hesitation bubble up again, but finally, closed his eyes, focused, and waited. Initially, nothing happened save for flickers of colors and flashes of images. Suddenly, _he found himself standing on a balcony overlooking a city, though the name of it escaped him. The faint smell of flowers tickled his nose. He was waiting on someone to meet him._

_“Loki.” A woman spoke, prompting him to turn around to look up at a woman. Immediately, he knew that she was his mother, but much like the city, he couldn’t recall her name. He felt himself smiling as he followed after her to the libraries._

_The memory abruptly shifted, and with it, so did his mood. He found himself terrified and standing in front of a mirror. Rather than the blue skin and red eyes he was used to, he wore a pale complexed skin with no swirled markings and his eyes a light blue. He felt like he was staring at a different person. The illusion reversed, showing his true Jotun appearance, and he stared for a long moment before punching the mirror, shattering it. Bitterly, he looked down at his knuckles and softly whispered, “Why did they lie to me?”_

_The memory chaotically melted into a new one where he clung to the edge of a broken bridge, the one from his nightmares. Next to him, a blonde-haired man did the same and struggled to pull himself up; his brother. Above him stood an elderly man who wore an eye patch; his father…No. His adoptive father. The man brought the sensation of terror and he stared up at him, wide eyed. His brother managed to pull himself up with a slight bit of help, and he found his arm grabbed. “Loki, take my hand!”_

_He stared up at the man, unable to will himself to take the offered hand out of fear of what might happen. Everything had been done to try and please him, but it failed. “No.”_

_He let go of the bridge and fell._

Back in the present, he sat up straight with a choked noise and looked around, wide eyed. Next to him, Enul gently grasped his arm, causing him to look over at her.

“Breath. Memory cascades are not easy.” She commented, softly, as she offered him a drink of water.

Daicid shook his head and sucked in another breath. “I think we’re done for today.”

“Of course. Do you wish for another meeting?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” He all but bolted out of the healer’s office and lost himself in the maze of streets that made up the city of Vaes. While he had a name, Loki, and a species, Jotun, he didn’t know if he wanted to associate himself with either. Clearly, there had been some trauma in his past and he had no idea if he wanted to come to terms with it. As it stood, he had a chance to start over and build something quite nice for himself. For the moment, he chose to shelve the idea of finding out about his past.

As he made his way through the city streets, he found himself in a farmer’s market of sorts. There, Orussid and different aliens milled about to do their shopping. However, it was a certain government official that caught his attention. Clayton, was it? In either case, Daicid once more, found himself unimpressed at how unprofessional looking the man appeared to be. Clayton had managed to shave in the past day or two, which garnered him some points, but he completely lost those points and then some by wearing a fairly old looking, short sleeved shirt.

“I see that the Queens have let you have a day off.” Daicid noted as he joined the man’s side.

Clayton looked over with an expression of surprise at the sudden appearance of Daicid. “Technically, I don’t work for them. I work for the King as his Speaker. He has a rough time with Galactic Basic, so I do all the talking for him. Unless he’s doing political stuff in person, I’m not really needed. So, I’m ‘lended’ out to the Council of Queens for when they need translating done. They’re all a nice bunch, so I usually have lunch with them.”

While the explanation sounded good enough, he couldn’t help but have a nagging feeling that Clayton was lying, but he chose not to chase after that line of thought. He had different questions to ask. “That sounds like fascinating work. I’ll admit that I don’t know much about the culture and how things work. Given that you have such knowledge about the inner workings of the Orussid, would you mind showing me around?”

“Well, I don’t really have anything going on, so sure. Just let me know if I walk too fast for you.”

This gave him an excellent opening to ask his next question. “I don’t mean to pry but…”

“You’re wondering why I look different?” Clayton glanced over to him, a slight expression of amusement on his face.

“Guilty as charged.”

“The Orussid are a practical race. They like people who are a perfect fit for a job. I was fluent in a number of different galactic languages, so, they opted to do something a bit unconventional when I was cocooned.” Clayton shrugged slightly. “Getting used to the Hive was weird, but, I get to hear a lot of shitty jokes.”

“You were originally Xandarian?” Daicid looked to the other man. “I don’t understand what you mean by ‘cocooned’.”

“Yep.” Quietly, he laughed. “Okay. So. Orussid have a few different ways of producing more Orussid. You have the typical ‘Wham Bam, Sloppy Slam’.”

He couldn’t help but look away and smirk slightly at the crude gesture that followed Clayton’s words. “Of course.”

“Then there’s the asexual egg production, but those contain a larva that needs a host to incubate the Orussid in. There’s been the occasional instance of asexually produced pregnancies, but that’s stupidly rare. Anyway. The eggs can produce either sex, exception being eggs produced by Queens. Those tend to be female.” As he walked and talked, Clayton lightly gestured to emphasis certain points. “The last method is cocooning. It basically turns a non-Orussid into an Orussid. Takes a lot for that to happen.”

“Interesting. How did you manage it?”

“I presented a unique skill set.” He finally shrugged. “I was also paralyzed from the waist down thanks to a…Work accident. Basically, it was a chance at me to walk again.”

Once more, Daicid had the little _itch_ in the back of his mind that Clayton was lying. “What was your former line of work?”

“Believe it or not, but I was a bounty hunter.” Clayton abruptly laughed. “It was a bit of a jump to go from popping people in the head to doing political shit, but, I’m just happy to walk again.”

“You don’t seem the type.”

“Right?” He grinned at Daicid. “But I kinda hung up the guns ten years ago. I like it here and yeah, I wish I could run off after people again, but…I’m happy. Except when I wish I could tell some of the politicians to fuck off. Not my call, though. I just tell them what I’m told and vice versa. Pays well, at least.”

He kept getting the feeling that Clayton was lying, but he couldn’t tell what about. The entire story seemed plausible, though his knowledge of Orussid reproduction was lacking. Still, he fully intended to dig into Clayton’s past when he had the chance.

In the meantime, their conversation shifted more into the cultural aspect of things with Clayton pointing out the differences between the New and Old Districts. It, of course, fascinated him at the rich history the Orussid had and he felt disappointed when they finally reached his apartment building since it meant the conversation would come to an end. Although… “Do you want to come up for a cup of tea?”

Clayton merely offered a polite smile. “I’ll have to pass. I still have some errands to run. Have a nice day, Daicid.”

Daicid bowed his head slightly and watched the other man leave, but took note of the lazy, content swish to his tail. Ah well, it’d been worth a try, hadn’t it?


	4. Trading Thoughts

_With whatever you say, you're tellin' me something real_

Daicid continued with life. He went to the store, exchanged pleasantries with the shop owner, continued his self-education about the Orussid, and tried to find a job. The weekly stipend continued to cover his needs, but he desired much more than what the money would afford. Luckily, he managed to secure himself a job at a local art gallery. It paid well enough and his ability to smooth talk people proved to be an invaluable skill when it came to selling art.

Unfortunately, it also meant that he wasn’t able to dig into Clayton’s past for several days…Not that it really mattered once he started looking because he quickly ran into a problem: he simply didn’t know enough about the man to look for him on the Archive. Given that the network spanned the galaxy and connected any planet with sufficient technology? Looking for information on Clayton was akin to throwing a pebble into the ocean and hoping to reclaim it.

So, Daicid turned his attention to looking up information on King Sabaton. Afterall, it’d be wise to know about the king he now ‘served’. This search proved a great deal more fruitful and he found himself inundated with information that ranged from political treaties to simply collections of pictures of when the Royal Entourage had been out in public.

The pictures, themselves, were interesting. Some of them showed the Entourage in hooded, dark grey cloaks; once or twice, he swore he saw Clayton. This, truthfully, would make sense. The man _had_ stated that he worked for the King as a translator of sorts. Continuing through the pictures, he finally stumbled across one that showed the King in royal garbing.

King Sabaton wore a somewhat form fitting, hoodless, dark grey cloak that flared open in the front at, what Daicid assumed to be, the waist to allow freedom of movement when walking. However, what drew his attention the most was the headdress. It attached to a matte black, featureless mask and swept up, then back a bit with a slightly spiked ridge down the center; it reminded him of an animal’s skull, almost. Then, connected to the sides were flared out bits that had the bio-mechanical motif that he’d become used to; these draped over the King’s shoulders. All and all, it reminded Daicid of what the ruler of some other planet he visited would wear. The Pha-Ro? Something like that; he couldn’t remember and didn’t really care.

All and all, it was fairly dark compared to the Orussid’s current claim for peace. Then again, he supposed that it might be a throwback to some time before. Tradition and all. Still, the reason for a faceless mask eluded him. Orussid would look the same to just about anyone, except for themselves. Perhaps he could corner Clayton at a later time and pick his brain about the nuances of Orussid Royalty.

Continuing through the pictures, he found several of the Orussid King with Clayton next to him. Surprisingly, in all of the pictures Clayton had managed to look professional. Something that Daicid had previously assumed to be impossible. Other pictures simply had King Sabaton walking alongside some other leader, which he found slightly odd. Clayton had mentioned that the King didn’t speak Basic very well, but perhaps that only extended to the nuances of political arguments.

Then again, the healer he’d seen had spoken easily into his mind, so the same thing might be happening, there. Admittedly, it made sense to Daicid to have all the important things recorded but the private things could be, well, private. This caused him to pause and wonder about how he was able to figure that out so quickly. Maybe it was just common sense.

Clearing the thoughts from his mind, he began browsing through the different policies that Sabaton had enacted. Many of them were geared towards offworlders and had initially been a great deal stricter. Due to New Elysium having avoided the galactic politics, the King had felt that completely opening things all at once would be too much of a culture shock and could have the potential for disaster since the galaxy still remembered the warmongering ways of past leaders.

This initially meant strict background checks, limited visiting permits, and a cap on how many offworlders could be on the planet at any one time. As relations with other worlds were developed, these strict requirements were gradually lifted. In fact, a large chunk of them were repelled after The Vanishing. Ultimately, the goal was to have New Elysium open to the galactic public, just like most other planets.

This caused Daicid to reevaluate his initial assumption about the Orussid since he’d simply assumed that there was a degree of xenophobia at play. Truthfully, it seemed that he’d been wrong about many of his first assumptions about the alien race. Honestly, it just made him want to pick Clayton’s brain even more since the man was a great deal easier to read that the Orussid and had no issue talking about them.

At times, he found his endless curiosity to be frustrating. He had so many different questions about a variety of things and sometimes, he felt that he’d go mad if he didn’t get an answer. It made him wonder what he’d done before he lost his memory. Despite the curiosity he felt, the traumatic memories from his first session proved to be a powerful deterrent when it came to scheduling a second session.

He’d gotten some of his questions answered, sure, but it hadn’t brought the…Sense of _self_ that he’d sought. It’d only brought more questions and the aversion to seeking out more information. A rarity for him. Of course, it did nothing to stop the nightmares.

_He stood in front of a throne, his wrists shackled, with chains attached to them. Defiantly, he stared up at his adoptive father who sat upon the throne, looking as arrogant as ever. Softly, he scoffed, “I was only doing what was right by my birthright.”_

_“Your birthright was to die!” Odin snapped, then raised his spear to slam the butt of it against the floor, the sound thunderous and echoing._

Daicid jerked awake as the last bits of the thunder’s rumble faded under the sound of rain. Sighing, he cupped his hands over his face. That hadn’t _just_ been a nightmare, that had also been a damn memory. Dropping his hands to his sides, he rolled over and stared at the window where he could make out flickers of light, both from the city around the apartment and the lightning. Why did the nightmares plague him so?

Thankfully, he had the morning off, so he reluctantly slinked out of his apartment to explore the city. He didn’t particularly want to, but felt that he’d go mad if he stayed in his apartment all day. The remains of last night’s storm still lingered, causing heavier than normal rains, but Daicid found that he didn’t mind. There were fewer people, both non-Orussid and Orussid out and about. While normally the type to be heavily sociable, he found himself enjoying the quiet; even extroverts needed a moment of peace and quiet.

He found himself at a park filled with exotic flowers and trees with ivy that climbed up into the branches. A few people braved the rain, either doing the same as him or using the park as a shortcut to get to parts unknown. However, he found himself drawn to a gazebo where the government official who’d garnered his attention stood.

Clayton quietly watched the rain fall, tail swishing lazily, as he sipped on some drink; Daicid didn’t hesitate to invite himself to join the other man. “I find the rain surprisingly soothing.”

“It can be, but it gets old sometimes with how much it rains.” Clayton replied before taking a drink. “It’s interesting how we keep running into each other.”

He ignored the raised eyebrows the other man had as he took yet another drink. “I was merely out for a walk. I don’t work today and I thought that it’d be wise to continue my explorations of the city. And besides, I enjoyed your tour of the city the last time we met. You’re very knowledgeable about Orussid culture and, well, I’m utterly fascinated by them.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is that you have a bunch of burning questions?”

Daicid quietly laughed. “In a manner of speaking, yes. You just seem a lot more personable than the other Orussid. I assume it’s you still being partly human. You’re not as curt as they are.”

“Ah, well. Gotta be able to charm the people I’m talking to during political BS.” He shrugged slightly. “In all seriousness, don’t let the curtness bother you. Orussid don’t have a native spoken language, being a hive mind. They’re used to ‘speaking’ in thoughts, ideas, and emotions. Words can’t convey a lot of what they want to. They could definitely do it telepathically, but it’s kinda considered rude to do that without permission, at least, to non-Orussid. People consider their thoughts to be private, and for the most part? Orussid don’t have that notion.”

“So, you mean to say that Basic literally is difficult for them?”

“Right. Not all of them have the right mouth structure for it. So, they can speak it, but they get tired easily. Others take to it easily and can jabber for hours.” Softly, he snorted. “Others straight up hate it despite being capable. But nah. They’re not trying to be short with you, so don’t take it that way.”

“Interesting. I was just wondering about that since my session with the healer.” At Clayton’s curious expression, Daicid felt himself clam up and shifted the conversation in a different direction. “Most of the questions I have can’t be found in the information packets I was given, or they’re simply more complex than what’s covered.”

“Ah, yeah. Those are more designed for short term visitors. Not a lot of people want to live here, just yet. I don’t know if that’ll change, but honestly? Tourism brings in a lot of money.” He finally finished his drink and lightly tapped a finger against the empty cup.

“I find that hard to believe, to be truthful. Vaes is a beautiful city. I have a few other questions, if you don’t mind?”

“Go for it.”

Immediately, he felt a bright grin form on his face. “Excellent! I’m mostly curious about your King. If I’m going to live here, permanently, I want to know more about whose rule I’ll be under.”

“Uhhuh?”

The very slight tensing of Clayton’s body caused him to tilt his head ever so slightly. Interesting. However, he continued on as if he hadn’t noticed it. “I was curious about how he came to rule. The Archives mentioned that there wasn’t a King _or_ Queen for the past hundred years or so and the Orussid were governed by the Council of Queens.”

“Oh. Little pockets of Orussid eggs from a couple thousand years ago are all around the galaxy. I think I mentioned what eggs are used for.” When Daicid confirmed, he continued. “Well, sometimes you get people that stumble onto them, he’s from one of those instances. So, he showed up on New Elysium and was taken to see the Queens, because it was kinda a big deal. Now, get this. Orussid tend to be matriarchy, so the Queens were kinda seeing if it’d be worth letting him and his little band join the Hive. He took it as an attack and made them submit to his will. And **boom**. Dude’s king.”

“That doesn’t seem like someone who’d be a good leader if he forced them to bend to him.”

“No, no. You don’t get it. The strongest mind leads the Hive. It has nothing to do with if someone will be a good leader or not, that’s _literally_ a biological need. The stronger the mind, the larger the Hive can get. No True Singular, no Hive. The Queens took the place of a True Singular, but even for them it basically just…Wore them out and resulted in frequent changes in the Council.” Clayton finally shrugged. “It can be hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been there in the Hive, I guess.”

“Care to explain?” Daicid looked over at the other man who’d looked down at his cup to pick at the lid with a claw that had been trimmed short.

“It’s…It’s basically like one giant family.” He abruptly laughed. “One that gets along. It’s peaceful and there’s no arguments. They don’t care about weird little quirks, or anything like that. There’s no secrets. I mean, you _can_ if you want, but it causes worry and they think something’s wrong. And when something _is_ wrong? They just wrap around you like this giant, warm, fluffy blanket.”

Clayton suddenly laughed again and made a sound suspiciously close to a snorting laugh. “Oh my God, I’m making it sound like a cult. I swear it isn’t. It’s just…”

“Hard to explain to someone who’s never experienced it, but if the person _had_ experienced it, you wouldn’t have to explain in the first place.” Clayton’s laughter had become infectious and caused Daicid to grin, himself.

“Exactly! I guess the best way to describe it is that it’s where I belong.”

“Sounds interesting. I suppose my next question is: what’s the symbolism behind the clothing the King wears in public?”

“Unity and a throw back to the Old Ways. Where ever an Orussid goes, they take the Hive with them. Kind of a ‘I am Legion, for we are many’, type of deal. That’s where the faceless mask bit comes from. The headdress is a throw back to when the Orussid were a lot more warlike. While they have genetic memory and aren’t going to forget what happened, it’s also a bit of a visual reminder of where they’ve come from.”

Slowly, Daicid nodded. “I was simply wondering since it seems a bit dark compared to the current Orussid ways.”

“Yeah, kinda.” Finally, Clayton sighed. “Well, I should get going. Have some big ass thing to coordinate for next week…Plus packing and all that fun shit. Enjoy the rest of your day off.”

Daicid returned the nod the other man gave him and watched him start on his way to the capitol building. While he’d gotten plenty of information about the Orussid and their culture, he’d garnered little about the strange hybrid. The man was an anomaly, and he had decided that he enjoyed picking apart such things.


	5. Hard to Find

_You can see right through me, outta sight, outta mind_  
_Can you see why it's easy to be the hardest to find?_

Truthfully, Daicid felt shocked at how easily he’d fallen into his new life. While he still felt the pull of wanderlust, he also had plenty of things to occupy his attention. His job, for example, proved to be an excellent distraction. The rich, vibrant culture around him was another distraction and never ceased to delight him with the various things he was able to learn. Finally, there was the matter of Clayton.

Innately, he knew the man was hiding _something_. Sure, people hiding things about themselves was nothing new or unexpected, but the hybrid was likely the only one of his kind. Unique, different, and utterly fascinating. Yet, nearly impossible to find information on and seemed to be a literal ghost.

He could certainly find information on Clayton during the past ten years of being with the Orussid Kingdom. Oh no, there was _plenty_ on him. There was even a section on him on the planet’s official Archive page! Yet, Daicid could find nothing on him prior to ten years ago. Granted, the man had been a bounty hunter for however any years, so it’d make sense that there wouldn’t be much information on him during that segment of his life.

Yet, Daicid couldn’t find _anything_. There was nothing from his childhood, and certainly there should have been at least a birth record. The man simply didn’t exist, as if his history had been carefully and meticulously scrubbed from the Archive. Such an act didn’t seem possible, and yet…Clayton Barker didn’t exist. Another mystery to tack onto the anomaly who was the King’s Speaker.

He stared at his tablet when he came to another dead end and sighed. Now, he was being plagued by connection issues. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume that someone was trying to stop his digging. That was absurd, however. He damn well knew that he was a nobody, and therefore, had no reason for anyone to be snooping on what he was looking for. That being said, he also couldn’t rule out the connection problems being, well, connection problems. Finally, Daicid chose to give up on the search. It’d been nearly a week and he hadn’t been able to find any useful information and at this point, doubted that he would.

So, after puttering around his apartment for a bit to pick up things, he plucked up his jacket and went to get a quick meal from one of the local eateries. At the moment, he didn’t feel like cooking anything, but he also didn’t feel like ordering something and having a half-cooled meal arrive. Besides, it had rained all morning and he wanted to stretch his legs.

On the other hand, his attention was quickly drawn to how certain roads were closed and how crowds, mostly offworlders, were lined up on the sidewalks to view something. Curious as to what was happening, he carefully pushed his way through the crowd to where the activity seemed to be heaviest. To his surprise, he spotted the Royal Entourage. This must have been what Clayton had mentioned, last week.

It took him a moment to get to the front of the crowd and he scanned the fifteen or so cloaked figures. They were all Orussid, but while most were of the usual height, three or four of them seemed to be about Clayton’s height. From the pictures he’d seen, he knew King Sabaton was shorter than the average Orussid. However, he also knew the Orussid had a very wide variety of phenotypes.

Perhaps they were body doubles, Clayton included. After all, the mask and headdress would prevent anyone from knowing which Orussid was actually the King. Yet, Daicid’s mind rolled back to the aspect of how the Orussid all looked the _same_. Literally, the only ones who’d be able to tell the difference would be the Orussid themselves, and even then, it wouldn’t matter because of them being a hive mind. Huffing to himself, he tapped a finger on the barricade, as he rolled this issue around in his mind. The symbolic nature of the mask and headdress made sense from a cultural standpoint, but none of the pictures of King Sabaton showed the Orussid without the mask. Surely, he’d get tired of wearing it all the time. Daicid caught a brief glance of Clayton as the man turned towards one of the other hooded figures. Unless…

Unless the King wasn’t fully Orussid.

Quite quickly, pieces of a fragmented puzzle began falling into place. King Sabaton had come to power ten years ago, and Clayton had mentioned retiring from bounty hunting and coming to New Elysium ten years ago, but became the King’s Speaker about nine years ago. To add onto things all of Clayton’s history from before ten years ago was simply gone.

He stared at the Entourage, but didn’t quite focus on them. Given that the Orussid had a bit of a bloody history, the King would be a major target for assassination because it could essentially kill off the entire race…Meaning it’d made _perfect_ sense for the King to hide in plain sight, do what he needed to do politically, while pretending to be subservient to a **puppet**.

Quite honestly, it was genius…And Daicid had zero proof.

Softly, he scoffed, amazed at how much sense it made. It explained why Clayton was having lunch with the Queens, why he stiffened when asked about King Sabaton, and the pervasive feeling that Daicid always got that said Clayton was lying. As much as he wanted to confront the man about things, he also knew it’d be absolutely stupid and a _very_ good way to potentially get himself booted off the planet.

The sound of a ship engine kicking on brought him out of his thoughts and he watched the Entourage split into groups before boarding different ships. Again, smart. Clayton and his group boarded an older modeled ship that was angular and heavily armed with turrets under the wings, one on the back, and a massive cannon under the nose. Much like the other ships, it had been painted in the royal colors of dark grey and blue.

Daicid remained there at the barricade and watched the ships take off. Part of the puzzle had been solved, that is, the relationship between Clayton and King Sabaton. Of course, with several questions answered, several more took their place. He wanted to know what made Clayton special enough to lead the Orussid. Supposedly, they needed a powerful telepath to bring order to the Hive, and Xandarians certainly weren’t telepathic.

Finally, he stepped away from the barricade and returned to his initial pursuit of food, but with many more things on his mind. He would need to figure out a way to dig into Clayton’s past, but he wouldn’t be able to do it directly. It’d require a bit of thinking and planning, but Daicid felt confident that he’d come up with a plan.


	6. Winter's Turn

_Walk towards the fire innate, frost bitten soul below zero._

_He sat in an expansive library, taking notes from an ancient book under his Mother’s watchful gaze. Slowly, he traced his fingers over the picture of the World Tree and followed the veins of gold that’d been carefully painted onto the page to indicate the start of the chapter._

_“Loki, I believe it’s time for lunch.” Frigga commented, softly, interrupting his examination of the page._

_Rather than replying, he simply nodded and got up to follow after her. As he passed by some ancient armor, he caught a glimpse of himself in the carefully polished metal; he wasn’t a man, he was a woman._

Daicid blinked and came back to the present, feeling utterly confused. He knew quite well on what anatomy he had and what he didn’t have, but that had clearly been him…Somehow. Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. In a way, he regretted visiting the healer since it’d apparently put a crack in whatever mental wall that’d been hiding away his memories. Rather than a flood, he had annoying drips of the most random memories.

He looked down at his hands, ignoring the prattling of the newscaster on the holoscreen, and frowned as he tried to figure out how and why he would have been a woman. In all of his memories, he always wore a different skin than what he had, currently. He recalled the instance, many moons ago, where his skin had briefly turned pale. It made him wonder if he had some ability he’d forgotten.

For a brief moment, he focused on the idea of appearing as he always did in his memories: pale skinned with blue eyes. Of course, Daicid expected nothing to happen. Instead, he yelped loudly in surprise when he felt the brief sensation of coolness wash over him as the color of his skin changed. He sat there for a long moment to stare at his hands before scrambling up and bolting to the bathroom.

Instead of the appearance he was used to, he saw the man from his memories, just with longer hair. Yet, despite the strangeness of it all, he felt a sense of…Familiarity. This…This was Loki, but Daicid wasn’t Loki. Perhaps at one time he had been, but he didn’t have enough memories to take up the name, again. Then, just like that, the pale skin whisped away to his usual dark blue skin.

Lightly, he touched the skin of his face and frowned. He didn’t know what to call what he’d done. It made him wonder if he could look like other people. Of course, the first person that came to mind was Clayton. He had a half moment of delight when his appearance changed before thousands upon thousands of minds came crashing down upon him. The sheer shock of them caused him to immediate change back. Sagging down, he sat on the bathroom floor and leaned against the tub for a moment to catch his breath.

“What the _fuck_.”

That hadn’t been a mere superficial appearance change. He let out a sharp exhale. Had that actually been a case of shapeshifting? Because logically, if it’d been a simple change of appearance, he shouldn’t have heard the Hive like that. Slowly, he pulled himself back up to his feet, feeling unusually weak kneed. Admittedly, if he _could_ shapeshift…Well, that opened up a wide new venue of trouble he could get into.

He stood there for a moment, unsure if his legs would support him if he tried to walk. The voices from the Hive still echoed in his mind, a never-ending stream of information, thoughts, emotions…How could anyone survive in it without going mad? Finally, he sighed and slowly walked back into the living room to sit down on the couch. Perhaps it would be wise to skip his usual evening explorations of the city, tonight…

The next day saw him busy with work, coyly sweet talking several offworlders into buying overpriced, hideous artwork. While he thought the paintings should be thrown into the nearest bonfire due to how they offended his eyes in their grotesque use of color, he enjoyed the bonus he received from selling them a great deal more.

So, despite being tired, he left work, greatly pleased by the extra money he’d earned and decided to visit a local eatery that served flat bread that had been covered in sauce, cheese, meats, and other toppings. Pizzas, they were called. Daicid could only assume that they were some Orussid specialty, since he’d never encountered anything similar to the food in his travels across the galaxy.

As he walked, he heard a male voice yelling behind him, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Hearing people yell for one reason or another wasn’t anything new. A part of him swore the man was yelling ‘Loki’, but he disregarded the idea. The chances of anyone from his prior life being here would be marginal, at best.

However, when someone grabbed his arm and spun him around to face them, Daicid acted almost instinctively and slammed a knife into their side. However, the knife lodged itself into some body armor hidden under a somewhat dirty and stained shirt. He looked up at the overweight, heavily bearded, long haired, blond man, and expected some sort of retaliation.

Instead, he found him dragged into a near rib crushing bearhug while the man grinned broadly. “It _is_ you! I thought you were dead, Loki!”

“Who the _fuck_ are you?!” He gasped out seconds before he was released.

The man still grinned and looked down at himself. “Oh, well. I suppose you wouldn’t recognize me. I look a bit different. It’s me, Thor.”

“…I have no idea who you are.” Daicid scrutinized the man, trying to place him in what fragmented memories he’d recovered. Admittedly, he had a bit of a resemblance to the man on the bridge before he fell, but…

Thor’s expression faltered. “Loki, I realize you enjoy your tricks, but this isn’t the time. I thought you were dead after Thanos broke your neck.”

He frowned, recalling the doctor having mentioned severe neck injuries. “I’m playing no tricks. I don’t know who you are. I…Perhaps we should discuss this over a meal?”

“What do you mean you don’t know who I am? I’m your brother, for the Allfather’s sake.” Thor asked as he walked with him towards the eatery.

“I woke up from a coma nearly a year ago with no recollection of who I was.” Daicid replied, flatly. “All I have are pieces of memories. I _do_ know that Loki is what I was called, but…Everyone calls me Daicid, now.”

Thor suddenly looked surprised, then glanced away at this news. Finally, he sighed and looked back, a sad expression had clouded his face. “All these years, I thought you were dead and I was haunted by the last thing I told you before I watched you ‘die’.”

“What happened?”

“After our homeworld was destroyed, we escaped with the few remaining Asgardians on a ship and plotted a course to Earth. The ship was captured by a warlord named Thanos who sought to collect the Infinity Stones. We had one of them with us, unknowingly. The Tesseract. After slaughtering half the people on the ship, he demanded it. You had it with you and offered it up to him. I thought you were only doing it to save your life.” Thor sighed heavily and closed his eyes, going silent for a moment before he continued. “I called you the worst brother…Right before you tried to stab Thanos, then he killed you. Or at least, I thought you were dead.”

“The doctor on the ship mentioned that when they found me, I was barely alive with severe neck injuries.” Daicid mused, softly.

“I spent the past six years hoping you were still alive, but as time passed, I slowly gave up.” Suddenly, Thor brightened and slapped Daicid on the back. “But here you are! Tell me, what ae you doing here?”

“Living my life.” He sent Thor an annoyed look at the slap to his back. “I originally arrived here in hopes of recovering my memories but…I’m not entirely sure I want to if they’re going to be that traumatic. In any case, I’ve adopted this place as my home.”

“But Loki, yo—”

“My name isn’t Loki!” He snapped, but then sighed at the hurt expression he received. “I only have a handful of memories from before I woke up. I don’t know who I am, Thor. The only memory I have of you is when I fell off a bridge.”

Thor remained silent until after they had bought their food and seated themselves in a small, sheltered garden. “You would prefer me to call you Daicid, then?”

“I would. I don’t feel I have near enough memories to reclaim the name ‘Loki’. Still, since you’re here and clearly know me, perhaps you can answer some questions.”

“Of course! If it helps you remember, I would gladly do so.” Thor replied before taking a bite of his food and murmuring about how it tasted good.

“You’re not my blood brother, are you? I’m adopted, aren’t I?”

“Yes. Asgard fought against Jotunheim and Father found you as a baby.” Thor hesitated, as if unsure of how in depth he wanted to go. Finally, he sighed. “He hoped to use you as a political tool to manipulate the Jotun, but you’d been left as a sacrifice to some god they worshiped. As far as they were concerned, you were a runt. Mother adopted you almost immediately and raised you as her own. You were always magically inclined and she honed your skills.”

“You knew what I was?”

“No. They kept the truth from both of us. I only found out the truth from Mother after you were imprisoned for leading an attack on Earth. I later learned the attack had been orchestrated by Thanos. I…Have my own ideas of what happened between you falling off the Rainbow Bridge and reappearing on Earth.” Thor slowly shook his head. “But I’ll keep quiet because I don’t want to give you false ideas of what happened.”

Daicid quietly nodded and focused on his own food for a bit of time before he spoke again. “What if I never recover all of my memories?”

“To be truthful, I feel that I failed you as a brother. Even if you never fully remember who you are, I still want us to be brothers. Perhaps, we can have a better relationship than we did.” Thor scoffed and looked away. “I was an arrogant fool and blinded by the idea of being King and the power it’d bring. Eventually, I did become King, but at the cost of almost everything.”

“I wouldn’t mind the idea. It would mean I’d have someone to pester should I have any questions.”

Thor suddenly brightened up and gestured at Daicid’s communicator. There, he inputted something. “I gave you my holoname if you wish to contact me later. I’m presently traveling with the Guardians of the Galaxy. I decided that being King wasn’t for me and passed it on to someone else.”

“I’m afraid that what I do is a great deal more boring.” At Thor’s curious look, Daicid quietly laughed. “I work at an art galley and talk people into buying shitty artwork.”

“Honestly, that sounds like something you’d do. Although, I’m surprised you haven’t landed yourself in the royal court.”

“No, the Orussid are fairly wary about offworlders still. That being said, I’m somewhat friendly with one of the officials who happens to be fairly close to the King.” He finally pushed his empty plate to the side. “Mostly because he’s willing to answer all my questions about the Orussid.”

“Some things don’t change.” Thor gave him a fond look. “You were always insatiable when it came to seeking knowledge. Quite honestly, you act the same. Although, it’s puzzling to me that you’d be a Jotun, but I suppose that since you don’t have your memories…”

“That actually reminds me. Was I capable of shapeshifting?”

“You were and frequently used it to cause an unending amount of trouble.” He laughed. “Usually you were my brother and sometimes you were my sister. I’ll admit. It always amused me for you to be a woman and people underestimate your fighting abilities. I saw more than a few people get stabbed because of it.”

“Interesting. Well, I think that’s all of my questions, for the moment.” Daicid pulled his drink closer to himself. “It’s a lot of information for me to sort through.”

“Of course. Would you prefer me to leave?” Thor leaned over to throw away his trash. “The Guardians plan on being on New Elysium for at least a week or two, so we can meet up again, if you wish.”

“For now, yes. I worked today, but I would certainly enjoy meeting you again during the weekend. I’m sure I’ll have come up with more questions by then.”

Once more, Thor grinned. “Excellent. Let me know when and where.”

Daicid nodded and watches as Thor left. As he had said, the entire conversation had left him with a number of things to think about. While he had no way of verifying what the other man had said, it still gave him some pieces to a very fragmented puzzle…And, admittedly, some of what had been said matched up with some of his nightmares. That being said, Thor had spoken fondly about his, or perhaps _their_ Mother. So maybe not everything from his life from Before had been bad.


	7. Outside Looking In

_It's hard to look into the mirror dark within, and not embracing the reflection there_

Despite agreeing to meet with Thor that weekend, Daicid couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious about it. While he believed that the man _was_ his brother, he still felt hesitant about learning about his past. It was clear that there were a number of traumas that he’d gone through and he didn’t feel confident that he wanted to remember them. But had he truly forgotten them? After all, he had a number of little…Quirks.

He hated having things around his neck, for one. Any shirt collars had to be loose or else a sense of panic would slowly build until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He purposely avoided a specific bridge thanks to it having low guard rails. If he absolutely had to cross it, he stayed as far away as he could from the edges. It said to him that while he’d forgotten, he hadn’t _truly_ forgotten. Perhaps suppressed would be a better word to use.

Either way, his anxiety wasn’t severe enough for him to completely back out of the meeting. So, he quietly sat at a table in the same secluded garden where Thor and him had eaten lunch of few days prior. On one hand, he regretted getting there early, but on the other, it gave him time to finalize his questions…Even if it did nothing for the anxiety that rolled around in his chest. Finally, he looked up when the other man settled in the chair across from him.

“Good morning, Thor.”

“You were always formal.” Thor noted as he got himself comfortable. “You don’t need to be.”

“I don’t know what to expect, if I’m honest.” He hesitated, feeling an unusual sense of apprehension about talking to himself. As if exposing his numerous weaknesses would cause ridicule. Yet, Thor had been absolutely friendly towards him since they’d met and so he dismissed the concerns as unfounded. “I sometimes wonder if I _want_ to remember.”

Thor looked up from his drink, curiously. “Why?”

Again, the hesitation but Daicid ruthlessly pushed it away. He’d never get answers if he kept dancing around things and honestly, hadn’t that been the reason he came to New Elysium in the first place? To get answers? “I suspect there are a number of traumas in my past and I worry that if I remember…Well, ignoring my current memory issue, I’m fairly happy with my life. At the same time, the entire reason I came to New Elysium was to recover my memories. The first meeting with one of the healers didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I requested the healer to help me figure out my name and what my species was. It resulted in what’s called a ‘memory cascade’, and since then, I keep remembering little snippets of my past.” He carefully avoided talking about the specific memories and he couldn’t figure out why he felt the need to do so. “But some of the memories have been of our Father and some of his…Actions towards me.”

“I won’t lie. Our Father wasn’t the kindest man. He lied to the both to us and claimed we both had equal claim to the throne, but it was actually only me.” Looking back down, Thor picked at a stain on the table, an expression of guilt forming on his face. “At the time, I was too blinded by pride to see him for what he really was and how he treated you. Perhaps, I thought it was normal or perhaps, I was also scared of him in some fashion. As your brother, I should have protected you and I failed in that.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned and focused on the other man, taking note of how he refused to look him in the eye.

“Father was abusive towards you. Only verbally, to my knowledge, but I also wasn’t always around so I have no way of knowing if it was more than that. After your imprisonment, Mother and I talked at length about you. Father had originally planned for you to be a political pawn to manipulate the Jotun, but it didn’t work out very well and Mother adopted you as her own.” Thor sighed and his shoulders slumped a bit. “I’m…Sorry. I should have been a better brother. I should have done a lot of things.”

Daicid remained quiet for a few minutes. While he had no reason to think that Thor was being dishonest, he also had very little proof of his words being truthful. He would simply have to wait until more of his memories bubbled back to the surface. “Well. The past is the past and you can’t change the past. I’m not going to take what you’ve told me as the utter truth, since I have no way of verifying it…But it _is_ something for me to keep in mind. You must understand that this is still a shock to me. I never expected to have family, let alone stumble into one.”

“No, that is your absolute choice. I just wish to make things right.”

“You’ve felt guilty all these years?”

“…Yes.” Sighing, Thor finally looked up. “I had over five years to think things over, to…Retrace my way through everything I’ve done and figure out how I’d do things different, to make it better. What I said to you, the last time I saw you…You were doing it to save my life, knowing it’d likely cost you your own. After I realized this after the fact, the guilt ate me alive all these years. Between that and the guilt of knowing that I could have killed Thanos and prevented The Snap, but I was too _fucking_ obsessed with the idea of revenge…”

He frowned at how Thor’s words seemed to tumble out and then he finally sighed. “Well, I’m alive, aren’t I? I just don’t have my memories, and while I don’t know how much of what you say is true, I _do_ know we’re brothers. I remember you from some of my memories. I just wasn’t able to really put a name to the face. And…What do you mean by ‘The Snap’? Who is Thanos? You’ve mentioned them several times.”

Just saying the word ‘Thanos’ made Daicid’s chest clench for some reason and he had no idea why.

“Thanos was a warlord, I think I mentioned. He gathered up the Infinity Stones, all powerful stones and put them into a gauntlet. At the time, we didn’t know what he was planning on doing with them.” Thor sighed and closed his eyes. “I managed to bury my axe into his chest, with the plan of making him suffer for everything he’d done. Then he snapped his fingers. By the Norn, everyone began to turn to ash.”

“The Vanishing.” He mused, but then quietly sighed. “I think I remember him, in some fashion, even if it’s not consciously. His name unsettles me.”

“Is it horrible of me if I wish you never remember him?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. You _did_ mention that you wished to start over, didn’t you?”

“I did. I…Won’t push the topic if you decide against it.” Thor replied, hesitantly, and had an expression that said he hoped for a positive response.

“It’d be stupid of me to deny the offer. Presently, you’re the only link I have to my past and despite my reluctance, I already know that I won’t be able to deny my curiosity forever and will eventually want to delve into things.” He faintly smiled at the other man’s relieved expression. “However, I beg of you, give me space. Right now, I’m trying to get settled here on New Elysium while also sorting through the memories as they surface.”

“Of course! That’s why I gave you my holoname. I won’t pester you, but if you have questions you can contact me.” Thor suddenly grinned. “You’ll have to tolerate me occasionally coming to visit.”

“I think I can handle that. No rib crushing hugs, please.”

“Yes, I apologize for that, but I was simply so excited to see that you were alive. Even if you are a bit different looking than what I’m used to.” He lightly gestured at Daicid’s blue skin.

“That’s how I woke up.” He hesitated before shifting his appearance into what he remembered from his memories, then noted how Thor’s expression lit up. “Is this what you’re used to?”

“Yes.” He gave a small smile, but had the appearance of almost wanting to cry. “It’s good to see my brother again, but…I understand if you prefer your other form.”

Daicid returned to his prior form. “Yes, it’s…Strange to see myself in the other form, I realize it’s me but…It feels…Odd. As if I’m trying to be someone else.”

Thor slowly nodded. “I don’t care what you look like. I’m simply happy you’re alive.”

He looked up at the sudden rumble of thunder overhead, hinting at an incoming storm, but simply held up a hand when Thor moved to get up. Then, pointed at a force field that flickered on, above the garden, in order to shelter them from the rain. “Rain is a constant on New Elysium and the outdoor areas, such as this one, are designed to protect the patrons from the rain.”

“I see.” Thor curiously looked up as the rain began to fall. “You’re doing well for yourself, here?”

“Yes. I’ve gained permanent citizenship and they provide documents about the culture to aid newcomers. If nothing else, I have a lukewarm…I wouldn’t say friendship, but we occasionally visit, with one of the state officials.” Despite suspecting that Clayton was actually King Sabaton, Daicid didn’t want to mention anything. He not only applauded the misdirection as genius, he also respected the reasons the man might be doing so. “He’s very eager to talk about the Orussid and their culture, nearly as I am eager to learn about them.”

Thor got up and walked to the railing before giving Daicid a bright grin. “You were always curious about the world around you and loved the careful dance of politics. Mother always said you’d be a good politician if you ever managed to shake your need for mischief.”

Immediately, he couldn’t help but grin, as well. Not only was Thor’s happiness contagious, Daicid couldn’t help but think about all the trouble he could get into with his new found shapeshifting. It could prove key in getting the answers to some of his questions. “Mischief? Hardly. Consider it…Adding excitement.”

This made Thor laugh loudly. “You might have a different name and a different look, but by the Allfather, you’re still the brother I grew up with.”

The rest of the morning and afternoon saw Daicid showing the other man around the city, including where he worked, where he lived, his favorite places to eat, and the gardens he enjoyed visiting. While Clayton was an interesting man and, on the surface, seemed friendly, he still had a sense of being guarded. Thor, meanwhile, just seemed to be happy to be around him. Overall, he found the day to be highly enjoyable and they eventually ended up at the space port.

Thor looked up, fondly, at the ship. “While I would enjoy visiting with you more, Quill is wanting to leave tonight and says he found a job for us.”

“Do you enjoy traveling with the Guardians?”

“I do. I’ve had my time as being King and the politics of it. Valkyrie did most of the work because I…Well, I didn’t want to do much of anything.” His happy expression faltered slightly but was quickly back in full force. “It feels good to be fighting again and bashing heads in that need to be bashed in. There’s a lot of people in the galaxy who need help and I enjoy helping them.”

Daicid had a slightly unimpressed look. “You still feel guilty and are trying to pay penance.”

“You were always so intuitive, Brother.” Thor finally allowed the unhappy look to cloud his face. “There was so much suffering because of my arrogance. I had the chance to kill Thanos, but I didn’t take it, and that galaxy is still struggling to recover, even more so now that everyone has returned. Helping people…Helps me feel better.”

Then, the wide grin reappeared and he laughed. “Besides, someone needs to keep Gamora from stabbing Quill. Rocket doesn’t want to get involved, Drax thinks Gamora’s flirting with Quill, Mantis is just confused, Groot is more interested in his games, and Nebula thinks it’s funny.”

“I can relate.” He offered a slight grin of his own. “I’ll keep in contact.”

After giving a nod, Thor headed up into the ship and faintly, Daicid could hear the man yelling out a boisterous greeting. Minutes later, he watched the ship take off from the landing pad and steadily gain altitude. In the end, the meeting had gone a lot better than he’d anticipated and he looked forward to keeping in touch with the other man.

A short time after he reached his apartment, his communicator chirped. Curiously, he tapped it and smiled at the short video he’d been sent. In it, Thor introduced each of the Guardians by name, then ended it with a ‘good luck’ wish in recovering his memories.

“If you have questions about anything you remember, I’d be happy to try and answer them.”

Quietly, he closed the video and turned on the holoscreen to give himself something to listen to while he made a quick meal for dinner. However, the news that the Royal Entourage would be returning to New Elysium in the coming days garnered his attention. Perhaps he could manage another ‘chance’ meeting with Clayton, because he was damned determined to figure out if his theory about the man was correct or not.


	8. New Frontier with No Fear

_And we eye new skies with distant suns, wait for New Elysium_

Despite his numerous questions about the Orussid, Daicid chose to hold off on looking for Clayton for a few days. He figured that after an extended time away from the city that the man would want a chance to rest. Not to mention, recover from whatever political business he’d had off world. Of course, Daicid also knew that he’d need a viable reason for ‘running into’ Clayton again, else it’d start to seem suspicious. If his suspicions about the man were correct, then Clayton could easily have him booted offworld, should he desire.

So, while he tried to come up with a plan, Daicid decided to poke around the local market to see if he found anything that might interest him. His apartment was still depressingly bare and he wanted something to spice it up. Hilariously enough, it was Clayton who found him this time around.

“We really should stop running into each other like this.” Clayton remarked, his voice sounding heavily amused.

Daicid couldn’t help but jump slightly, then turn from where he examined some exotic houseplant that a merchant had for sale; the vivid red blooms had initially caught his attention. “We really should. Although, I was hoping to meet you again.”

“Oh? Decided to become my number one fan?”

“What?” It took him a moment longer to understand what Clayton meant. Quickly, he stammered out his words. “No! Of course not! I simply find your knowledge about the Orussid to be amazing and I’m utterly fascinated by them.”

Grinning, Clayton leaned over slightly to poke at the plant that Daicid had found so interesting. “That was a joke. I’m honestly not surprised I found you here. It’s the weekend and this is one of the busier markets. Plus, you stand out a bit.”

He couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the comment being a joke. “Yes, I was looking for things to decorate my apartment. I’m also craving some food but…Well, it’s hard to know what you look for when you can’t name it.”

A sympathetic look formed on Clayton’s face. “That’s gotta be rough. Just…Don’t focus on it too hard, alright? You’ll probably end up stressing yourself more than anything. Look, I don’t have anything to do today, so I could tell you more about the Orussid, if you want?”

Immediately, Daicid perked up. “I’d love that. As I’ve mentioned in the past, you’re a lot more personable that most of the Orussid. I don’t mean to offend them, but…”

“Nah, I get it. Have you been up to the old ruins?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been meaning to, but…I’ve been busy getting myself settled with a job and everything.” Slowly, he trailed alongside Clayton after the man motioned him to follow. “Will we be taking a craft to see them?”

“Nope! The ruins are actually the last bits of the Old City that was standing when Asgard got their panties in a twist. Because they’re a heavy reminder of how the Orussid once were, they’re pretty much treated as an outdoor museum, plus it’s hard for crafts to navigate around. So, we’ll be riding Filan.” A sudden grin formed on Clayton’s face. “Tourists can rent them at the public stables near the ruins, buuut…I breed them as a hobby, so, we’ll be riding my own stock. Better trained, in any case.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who’d have an interest in breeding animals.” Daicid noted as he stepped onto a public transit craft with Clayton.

“I guess? It kind of seems like a lost art. Sure, you can get some damn fine animals if you upload their DNA to a computer and let the programs do all the work. But I don’t know. A lot of the animals just seem to be bad tempered or have something undesirable even if they _are_ hardy or resistant to whatever. It works if you just plan to use them as food and they’re going to get butchered after a year or so, but if you want any sort of good temperament for handling?” He shrugged. “Besides, I’ve managed to get some neat color mutations…And it gives me something to work on that _isn’t_ related to politics.”

“It’s good to have hobbies. Too much work leads to burnout.” He commented as he looked over to Clayton. Then, he tilted his head as the craft reached the capitol building. “The stables are here?”

“Yeah. The south side of the capitol building has a main road that passes right near the ruins. Plus, it’s kind of an antiquated part of the city that’s hilariously rural. I mean, there’s literally a line where it’s the city and then _boom_ it’s farming land. It’s a throw back to when the city was a lot smaller. So, the immediate farmland is used to grow stuff for the royal kitchens. Basically, stuff the King and other royals might want.” Clayton stepped off the craft and continued leading the way.

“That’s fascinating.” Much as Clayton had said, when they finally rounded the building to the south side, they were greeted by carefully curated gardens. Rows of blooming vines had been carefully trained to climb up the trellis they’d been planted next to. Fruit bushes sat in clusters, seemingly overladen and exhaustively waiting for their bounty to be picked. In the distance, were orchards where Daicid could see Orussid milling around, tending to the trees. Still more gardens held plants he had no name for. “I take it that this year will be a good harvest?”

“Honestly, the harvest is almost always good. New Elysium doesn’t really have much in the way of seasons. There’s a few nights a year where it might get chilly, but for the most part? The seasons are limited to ‘rainy’ and ‘slightly less rainy’ which means we can grow food year-round. Food is actually one of the biggest exports that we have. From my understanding, we’re looking into a tiered hydroponics system that’d be contained in a greenhouse. But there’s a few pros and cons to that.”

While some might find the day to day business to be boring, Daicid found it fascinating due to the inherent logistical issues that could arise. “What sort of pros and cons?”

“Well, the pros are obviously an increase in food production, better control over temperatures and water since not all crops do well with lots of water, and it’d save space. A greenhouse could have the same floor size as one of these gardens, but because it’s tiered? It could easily hold double or triple the plants. The major con is the actual structure being a bit of an eyesore. I think the entire idea is stuck in bureaucratic hell, right now.” Finally, Clayton shrugged. “But I guess we’ll see what happens. Anyway. Here’s the stable.”

Curiously, he examined the animals contained in the different pens. They honestly reminded him of a strange combination of canine, avian, and reptilian. While the legs and body were canine in nature, the head seemed distinctly reptilian, almost lizardlike. However, he found the vivid feathers that covered the heads and necks to be something extraordinary. “These are the Filan?”

“Yep.” Briefly, Clayton ducked into a building and returned with the riding equipment before climbing over the gate to go catch two of the beasts. “I think I’ll put you on Sue. She’s pretty mellow, since I don’t know if you’ve ridden before.”

Amused, Daicid walked to the fence and rested his arms on the top railing. “That’s kind of you because I have no idea if I have before or not.”

“Exactly my reasoning.” Clayton soon returned, leading two of the Filan. The one on his left had a dark blue base color with a faint purple blushing to its feathers. In contrast, the one to his right was slightly bigger than the first and was a vivid orange with black mottles. “Alright. The lovely lady to my left is Sue. She’s very forgiving when it comes to riding screw ups and will just ignore you if she thinks you gave her the wrong direction. Plus, nothing scares her…Aaaaand the dumbass to my right is Fox. I’m pretty sure he’s a few short of a complete set, if you get my drift, but he’s a lovable dumbass.”

“She is quite lovely.” He commented as he opened the gate for Clayton. “I assume you’re trying to breed them? Generally, keeping two adults of differing sexes together tends to result in smaller versions of the adults running around.”

“Nah. Filan are triple sexed. You have male, female, and then the carrier. Gotta have all three in the same pen to get babies.”

“…Explain?”

Clayton laughed as he tied the two to quickly check them over before putting the equipment on them. “Basically? Male and female Filan look the same. Both got dangly parts. Carriers don’t and are the ones that, well, carry the babies. I guess you’d consider them female, too, but they don’t produce eggs. So, the female lays her egg or eggs in the carrier, male ‘breeds’ the carrier, and then they guard the carrier till the babies are born six or seven months later. It sounds weird, but it kinda makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint.”

Daicid tilted his head. “A larger family unit ensures the survive of the offspring.”

“Pretty much. So, that’s why you can keep male and female Filan together. You can keep a carrier in with either males or females, but you just have to make sure they haven’t been exposed to a Filan of the opposite sex in the past week or two.” Finally, Clayton patted Sue’s neck and gave Daicid a slight smile. “Sorry, probably more than you ever wanted to know about Filan breeding.”

“I think you underestimate my curiosity about the galaxy at large.” He replied, mildly, before gesturing at the two animals. “Are they ready?”

“I guess so.” Holding Sue’s reins, Clayton pointed at the stirrup. “Stick your right foot in that and basically climb on.”

Oddly enough, Daicid found the action came to him naturally and he settled into the saddle as if he’d done it thousands of times before. “I think I’ve ridden before.”

“You look it, but we’ll see.” After handing Daicid the reins, Clayton climbed onto Fox and started off. “They do have a bit of a weird gait to them, so even if you _have_ ridden before, that’s something you’ll have to get used to.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Frowning, he readjusted himself in the saddle as he tried to get used to Sue’s gait. “Earlier you mentioned having bred several color mutations?”

“Yeah, Fox here is one of them. Sue is what you consider the wild type, but she’s a carrier for a few genes I’m interested in. Anyway. Fox is what I call a ‘Sunspot’. ‘Cause these black mottles he has reminds me of sunspots. Original, I know.” Clayton laughed. “But I’m hoping that I can get a few babies from him that has his color. His first crop of kids is due to be born later this year.”

As they rode to the ruins, Daicid all but forgot his questions about the Orussid. Instead, found himself enthralled with Clayton’s Filan breeding. While most of what the man talked about pertained to genetics and breeding stock selection, there were more than a few amusing stories.

“…And it was honestly hilarious because it was obvious when he nutted because he’d just fall over. I ended up pulling Tiny from the breeding pens because I figured that he hadn’t matured enough. Some of ‘em take longer to mature than others.”

Despite the crudeness of the story, Daicid wheezed out a laugh at the mental imagery. “Well, it sounds like he was enjoying himself?”

“Or something. Anyway. These are the ruins.” Around them were caved in buildings, many of which were little more than just stone walls. Some were still covered in the resin that made up the Old District of the city, but the majority of the buildings had lost the resin over the centuries. Most of the pathways leading into the ruins were roped off with there being an obvious tourist path. “This way.”

Daicid raised an eyebrow when Clayton began leading them off the tourist path and onto one of the roped off paths. “Are you sure this is wise?”

“I know my way around. If anyone complains, they can suck it and respect muh authoruhtuh.” He pronounced the last two words differently, leading Daicid to suspect that it was a reference to…Something.

This thought was quickly lost as they navigated the maze that was once the Orussid city. Vines, moss, and all other manner of plant life had largely reclaimed the ancient city. Several times, Daicid had to duck some dangling plant, still, he looked around, wide eyed. No doubt he had a very dumbstruck expression on his face. Eventually, they reached a shallow river, with more of the ruins on the other side. Here, Clayton stopped.

“Two options. We can cross here since the river is shallow here, or we can go upstream and use the bridge. Personally? The bridge is kinda sketch, and I don’t like using it.”

“I don’t mind my feet getting wet.” Daicid noted, but then tilted his head slightly. “You come here often? I assumed your knowledge came from the Hive.”

“Some of it is from them.” Clayton started, but seemed more focused on directing Fox as he navigated the river. “But I like coming out here and exploring. Sometimes city life gets too loud, and sometimes I also just feel like break from the Hive. I like to think some distance gives me a little peace. It doesn’t actually work that way, though.”

“But you equated the Hive to a loving family?”

“And they are. Don’t get me wrong, but even a loving family can be overbearing at times. Maybe it would have been different if I’d been born into the Hive, or hell, fully Orussid.” He shrugged. “Still got too much human brain, I guess.”

Immediately, Daicid felt the questions in the back of his mind bubble up, but he needed to be careful. “Yes, sometimes you simply need a break from everything. How large is your ‘family’, anyway?”

“I don’t have an exact headcount, but it’s a couple ten thousand, at least. Last census put it at close to fifty thousand, if I remember right.” He paused, then nodded. “Yeah. Not going to spew exact numbers at you, but it was forty-eight thousand and some change.”

No wonder he’d been so shocked when he’d, briefly, shifted into Clayton! “I can certainly see where you’d need a break. I don’t know how the Hive works, but do you simply hear _all_ of them?”

Now that they were on the other side of the river, Clayton tilted his head back in thought. “I wouldn’t call it ‘hearing’. It’s not like you’re hearing me talk right now. It’s…”

“I went to one of the mind healers and she spoke into my mind.”

“Okay. That helps. So, you know what a telepathic voice ‘sounds’ like. Now, multiply that by thousands and add in random thoughts, emotions, and every possible thing that you’ve ever had bounce through your head. That’s a vague idea of what the Hive is like. It’s…Impossible to hear _everyone_. No one does or tries to. For the most part, we tune things out and it just becomes background noise unless someone needs information or we’re discussing something as a Whole.” He shrugged. “For being such an important day-to-day thing, it’s hard to explain.”

“No, I understand. It’s hard to explain a complex thing like that to someone who has no experience.” Daicid quietly laughed. “It’d be similar to me attempting to explain color to a man who’s been blind from birth. I can use things he might be familiar with to describe something, but he won’t truly understand it as I do.”

“That’s…Actually a pretty good metaphor for it.”

Quite quickly, they reached what might have once been a market square of some sort. There, a trio of Orussid had restrained what appeared to be a thief or graverobber, judging from the items set to the side. Immediately, Daicid felt two of the three glaring at them. “Perhaps…We should leave?”

Rather than replying, Clayton shifted his attention to the Orussid who approached him and gave the creature an unimpressed look. From Daicid’s viewpoint, the alien seemed to be trying to intimidate Clayton…Something that didn’t appear to be working. Finally, the standoff came to an end with the Orussid returning to the other two and Clayton leading the way away.

“Dare I ask?” Daicid finally spoke, several minutes after he could no longer see the trio of Orussid.

“The Orussid don’t like visitors in this part of the ruins. This is where Queen Moranna was killed. They were already in a bad mood because of the thief they caught. So, they tried to get bitchy at me.” Clayton shrugged, completely nonchalant. “I pulled rank on them and basically told them to kiss my ass.”

“Shouldn’t they be subservient to you, anyway, because you’re so close to the King?”

“You’d fuckin’ think so!” He snorted loudly and looked heavily annoyed. “Unfortunately, there _is_ some xenophobia in the Hive. It comes from so many centuries of being closed off from the rest of the galaxy. Most of the Orussid love the idea of learning and seeing new things. There’s a few that don’t share the idea and want to return to the Old Ways. Aka, curb stomping everything in the known galaxy. Obviously, the King doesn’t like that particular notion and there’s already been a couple of Orussid exiled because they kept stirring shit up. And…There’s a more than a few Orussid who aren’t exactly a fan of me being so high ranked. Mostly because I’m not fully Orussid.”

Daicid frowned, heavily, at this information. This was one of the few times where he didn’t feel that Clayton was hiding something, leading him to believe that the other man was telling the honest truth. “That’s hardly fair of them, given that you were chosen to do a specific job, by the King no less. Shouldn’t they respect his decision?”

“The Orussid, for the longest time, were basically puppets. They were born and they were ordered to die. Some being called a Celestial created them to be shock troopers while she tried to take over the galaxy. They didn’t have free will and followed her orders to the letter. Even after the Celestial died, was killed, or otherwise disappeared, the Queens continued to keep a tight rein on them. It was really only after Moranna was killed that the Orussid started to change their ways and shift towards something close to free will. Mostly out of survival because if they didn’t change things up, they’d go extinct.” He sighed and shrugged. “So, even if there’s opinions he doesn’t agree with, he’s not going to try and stomp them out because of that.”

“That’s an interesting shift in thoughts, especially considering he’s Moranna’s son.” He felt like he was in a slow, careful dance to try and tease out the truth about Clayton. The story sounded solid enough, but there were little…_Details_ that were off.

“Who knows? Not all children are like their parents. But anyway. That’s the reason why those Orussid were trying to get up in my face. I wasn’t expecting them to be out here, but apparently, there’s been a rash of thieves. Since they’re in a bad mood, it might be better if we head back to the city.”

Just like that, the subject had been carefully shifted to another topic. Still, he felt like he’d begun to poke at a sensitive spot and thought it prudent not to continue asking questions. In fact, he chose to remain quiet for the return trip back to the city. Clayton seemed almost…Irritable, and while he didn’t know the root cause, he suspected it to be the three Orussid from earlier.

When they reached the stables, Daicid lingered for a moment, wanting to say something…But not entirely sure _what_.

“Something wrong?” Clayton paused in his work of checking over Fox.

“I just wanted to thank you for showing me the ruins…Even if it did end on a bit of a sour note.”

“…Yeah, sorry about that. They put me in a bit of a mood.” He gave a tight smile. “Since we keep running into each other, I guess I’ll talk to you later?”

It didn’t take a genius to see the subtle dismissal. So, Daicid gave a slight head nod before leaving. While the outing hadn’t ended on the best of terms, it still answered a few questions…And annoyingly enough, created several more. On the other hand, he seemed to have crafted a shaky friendship with the King who felt the need to hide himself.


	9. A Bird in Flight

_She is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness  
_ _She rules her life like a fine skylark, and when the sky is starless_

While Daicid didn’t run into Clayton over the course of the next week, it gave him plenty of time to do research on Filan. Not just because of the other man’s interest in breeding the animals, but to satisfy his own curiosity. It led him down the proverbial rabbit hole of different things the beasts could be bred for. It ranged from meat production all the way to length of feathers. Some of the animals in the latter category had feathers that nearly dragged the ground; obviously, these were show animals and nothing more.

Still, the biology of how they reproduced fascinated him just as much as the different sub-types. Often, Daicid would get home from work and after making something to eat, would pluck up his datapad to delve into a book he’d found on Filan breeding. He didn’t know if he had experience with breeding animals or not, but either way, he found the different things to watch out for to be interesting. If nothing else, it’d give him another topic to talk about when he inevitably ran into Clayton again.

However, an annoying feeling had begun to creep into his mind. Since waking up from his coma, he’d always had a vague dissatisfaction with his appearance. From what he’d put together, he surmised that it had to do with his Jotunn appearance, given that there were some hostilities between Jotunn and whatever race had adopted him. He’d sent a message to Thor asking what the race was called, but hadn’t heard anything back, as of yet.

This feeling, however, seemed to be different and he couldn’t put a finger on it. With a sigh, he set his datapad to the side and rubbed his face with both hands. It made him want to avoid people and hide away, something that wasn’t his usual personality, and he knew it. He looked up at the ceiling as he thought things over. Not only had his memories shown him as a woman, Thor had also mentioned a ‘sister’.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Getting up, he walked to the bathroom and stared at the mirror for a long moment. His last attempt at shifting, while successful, hadn’t been entirely pleasant. This time around, he doubted it’d be nearly as bad…Yet he still hesitated. Finally, he shifted into the woman from his memories. Oddly enough, the change felt far more natural than the change into Clayton had been, as if it were a second nature.

The woman’s face that stared back at Daicid caused most of the earlier feeling to dissipate, but it left a major question: what to call himself. Because really. ‘He’, didn’t apply anymore. She would _obviously_ be more fitting, yet the whole aspect of changing sex on a whim felt surreal. Abruptly, she laughed. Why did it even matter? If she went with a different name, no one would know who she was, especially since she no longer wore the Jotunn skin. As she mused over things, she examined the clothes she wore; they were similar to what she’d seen in her memories.

Perhaps only the Orussid might, but she’d already been told that they didn’t look into people’s minds out of politeness and only after being given strict permission. So, between all that, she could essentially run around the city incognito…Maybe start fresh with Clayton and see if she’d get different answers from him as a woman than she had as a man. Was she asking for trouble? Perhaps. But the man had seen it fit to wrap himself up in lies and inconsistencies and she wanted to know _why_.

At the same time, she also didn’t want to ruin the slight friendship she’d developed because, honestly, Clayton made for great company. Being a fresh face meant that she could ask more risqué questions without the chance of ruining the friendship. In theory, anyway. She didn’t know if Clayton had the telepathy inherent in the race, nor how strong he was, if he did. If her suspicions were correct and he actually _was_ King Sabaton? It suggested to her that Clayton wasn’t a push over when it came to mental abilities.

After putting her hair into a quick braid, she slipped out of the apartment and made her way towards the capitol building with the intention of seeing the Filan again. Maybe she’d run into Clayton, if she was lucky.

Unfortunately, the stables seemed largely deserted, save for the lone Orussid who scrubbed a water trough. Several of the Filan laid down under a shelter, either napping or grooming each other. Regardless, it gave her the chance to see some of the other colors Clayton had bred. Honestly, it didn’t surprise her that the man wasn’t around. He likely had plenty of things to attend to.

“Can I help you?”

Daicid didn’t really know how much time she spent watching the Filan, but the sound of Clayton’s voice behind her caused her to jump. Turning around, she eyed Clayton who wore a hooded jacket, damp from rain, and sat on one of the beasts. All and all, it suggested to her that he’d been out riding for the better part of the morning. “I was exploring the city and came across the stables. I had hoped to rent one for the day, but didn’t see anyone around.”

“Oh.” Clayton dismounted and led the Filan to a tying post. “Well, this is private property, so…”

“I didn’t know that. I thought this was part of the stables up near the ruins.” She briefly shifted her attention to a Filan who had wandered over to sniff of her. Gently, she rubbed its nose. “I was honestly admiring the Filan since I’ve never seen some of these color variations before.”

Clayton paused and peered over the back of the creature he’d previously been riding. “Yeah? Have experience with them?”

“Not exactly. My uncle bred a small herd for meat. Personally, I don’t know how he even could stand the meat. I always thought it was too strong.”

“Yeah, it’s some pretty strong meat.” He agreed as he shooed the Filan into the pen and joined her at the fence. “Well, like I said. This is private property.”

Normally, Daicid wouldn’t push her luck, but…”You’re one of the state officials, aren’t you? The King’s Speaker?”

“I am.”

“I thought so. I’ve been thinking about moving to New Elysium, but I’m not entirely sure. So, I’m trying to get a feel for the political climate and well, the climate. Don’t want to move to a place that’s about to erupt into chaos.” She shifted her attention back to the Filan as it finally got bored of her petting and wandered off.

“No, New Elysium is fairly quiet.” Clayton had a resigned tone to his voice.

“I’ve actually seen you around the city a bit. Is the man you’re always with another official?”

Grabbing the riding equipment, Clayton briefly disappeared into the stable. “I talk to a lot of people. It’s part of my job, so you’re going to have to be more specific.”

Admittedly, Clayton did have a point. So, Daicid described herself as she normally appeared. “Sorry, it’s just that he stands out.”

“Oh. That’s Daicid. He’s a recent immigrant to New Elysium and is pretty interested about the Orussid. Since there’s a lot of misconceptions, I don’t really mind answering his questions. I figure that if he encounters someone who has misinformation that he’d correct them. Seems to be the type.” Clayton quietly laughed. “Seems nice enough, a bit quirky at times, but hell. Aren’t we all? Also…I didn’t get your name?”

This caused her to mentally freeze. Obviously, she couldn’t say ‘Daicid’. Finally, she picked the first name that came to mind and pretended she’d been focused on one of the Filan. “Hm? Oh. I’m Loki.”

“Loki. Okay.” He slowly nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“Perpetual space traveler. I was born on a space station.” She quietly laughed and then smiled. “So, I’ve spent most of my live traveling around, and I suppose it’s time for me to settle down somewhere.”

“I totally get’cha. I honestly prefer space, just you and your ship. There’s a lot more freedoms, and you can pretty much do what you want.” Briefly, a sad, fond look crossed his face but was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Well, if you do decide to apply for permanent citizenship, just be prepared for a lot of paperwork and meetings. It’s better than what it used to be, but it’s still a bit of a hassle.”

This sounded completely different than what she’d gone through and Daicid decided to question further. “Oh? I heard from some people that they just filled out a citizenship application and met with the Council of Queens.”

“That means they were fast tracked because of their application. There’s certain criteria where applications will get to skip all of the hassle. Either they have highly desirable skills, plan to work in an area where there’s a lot of job openings, they’re seeking asylum, or they’re seeking treatment with some of the mind healers. Everyone else has to go through a long process.”

“I see. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll need to look into that a bit further since I thought everyone went through the same application process.” Daicid suddenly flinched when a large, cold, raindrop smacked down in the middle of her head. Clayton laughed and gestured for her to take shelter under the stable’s overhang with him.

“If you don’t like rain, I don’t recommend moving to New Elysium, because that’s about the only constant thing about the planet.” He glanced down at his communicator when it chirped, then tapped it with a muttered ‘sorry, gotta take this’. “It’s my off day, and you know it, so it better be good.”

“I can tell.” A female voice spoke and while sounding human enough, her voice lacked any accent and seemed too…Perfect. “Unfortunately, your services are needed. It’s a priority one.”

Clayton sighed loudly, and was clearly unhappy with this news. “Yeah, alright. Can they give me thirty? I’m down here at the stables and I’ve been riding all morning. So, I need to finish up here and go get cleaned up.”

“Moment.” There was a short pause before the woman spoke again. “You have an hour. They were hoping to get it done before lunch, but they’ll just push it back till after.”

“Okay, yeah, that works.” After tapping the communicator, he looked to Daicid. “Well, Loki, it was a pleasure meeting you, but as you can kinda see, I need to skidaddle. Can you find your way back to the front of the building, or do I need to show you?”

“I can find my way back, thank you, though.” Quietly, she watched Clayton walk away and then slowly mused over what she’d learned. It really wasn’t very much, and if anything, the man had seemed more guarded than usual. Still, she’d gotten the distinct impression that he didn’t exactly enjoy life on the planet. Or, perhaps, it was simply a case of wanderlust.

With a slight frown on her face, she quickly made it to the walkway without getting too terribly drenched by the rain. The soft humming the forcefield made as the rain hit it sounded somewhat soothing, for some reason, and she finally just focused on the sound of the forcefield and the rain around her.

When she reached her apartment, her communicator chirped to indicate that she had two messages. The first one was from Thor, explaining that she was officially considered an Asgardian and while the original Asgard had been destroyed, he’d be happy to show her New Asgard which was situated on ‘Earth’. She had no idea where that was, but sent a short reply that she’d be interested in the idea in the future.

Considering Clayton had mentioned a bit of a history between the Orussid and Asgardians, she thought it prudent not to mention that little detail about herself. It wasn’t likely to come up, anyway, considering how different she usually looked from the Asgardians.

The next message was from Clayton and caused her chest to momentarily clench in anxiety.

_Daicid, someone was asking about you earlier, a woman named ‘Loki’. I don’t know if she was just being curious or if she’s someone you know. If she’s someone you know, maybe she’ll jog your memory about things? I’ve attached a picture of her for you._

_If you have the time for it, I wouldn’t mind meeting up and grabbing some lunch. I figure you have a lot of questions about the Orussid, still, and I didn’t really answer many during our trip into the ruins. Let me know what you decide._

_C._   
_From the desk of the King’s Speaker_   
_If this message has reached you in error, please notify the sender immediately and delete the message._

It wasn’t the message that startled her, in fact, she welcomed it. No, the picture was what did it. Rather than being one picture, it was several of her at different angles that’d been put together into a sort of composite. Most of them followed her on her trip home and from where she’d paused at the market to pick up a quick lunch.

On one hand, Clayton had enough of concern to inform her about it, but it still felt like an invasion of privacy and really drove home how much control he had. It also told her how dangerous of a game she was playing. Yet, she wasn’t about to be deterred…She’d just have to be a bit more careful.


	10. My Destination is Unknown

_In my memory, the past is fading.  
The future has been redesigned._

Two weeks had passed since Daicid’s little foray into the city as a woman, and considering the message Clayton had sent him? He thought it wise to lay low for a little bit, just in case Clayton suspected something...Which he doubted the man did. That being said, he did find it interesting that Clayton clearly thought enough of him to not only warn him about ‘Loki’, but to also invite him out for lunch…An offer he fully intended on accepting. Given that he had Clayton’s holoname, he began composing a new message.

_Clayton, I apologize for not taking you up on your offer sooner, but the gallery has been surprisingly busy with tourists and I’ve been working more hours than usual. Still, I have the upcoming weekend off and I was wondering if you’re still up to getting lunch. Your choice, I haven’t found any food that I haven’t liked._

_Let me know when you’re available, since I realize you’re a busy man._

Short, simple, and to the point. He sent the message and went to make himself a cup of tea, but before he could finish adding the sugar, his tablet chirped to indicate he had a message. He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised that Clayton had answered so quickly, but he still felt shocked that he’d gotten a near instant reply…Especially because it wasn’t an automated reply.

_This weekend works. Interested in doing some more Filan riding? Was thinking about heading to the west of the city and doing some hunting._

The second sentence caused Daicid to pause. He honestly had no idea if he’d like hunting or not. The idea didn’t sound entirely distasteful and a faint memory bubbled under the surface of his mind, just out of reach. He sighed and chose to ignore it for the time being, instead, focusing on answering the message.

_I’m fine with that idea. I have no idea if I’ll like hunting, nor if I actually know how to hunt. Regardless, I’m willing to give it a try. I apologize in advance if I end up finding it distasteful._

Setting down the tablet again, he went to finish making his tea and about laughed when he heard the device chirp again. Apparently, Clayton was where he could easily and quickly answer messages. Returning to the couch with his tea in hand, he picked up his tablet once more and glanced over the response. It was simply giving him a date, time, and a location with a question mark at the end. Daicid merely sent an affirmative reply. Then, he contentedly curled up in the chair by the window with his cup of tea and flicked through the different apps on his tablet till he found the book he’d been reading as of late.

That weekend, Daicid made his way to the local eatery that Clayton had picked and sat down under an awning. At the grill, the cooks chattered as they worked and he caught the scent of some type of spicy meat being cooked. He had no idea what it was, but it smelled delicious. Then, he glanced up when Clayton sat down across from him. “I have no idea what’s served here, but I like how it smells.”

Clayton grinned. “Right? The neat thing about this place is if you get a spot up at the bar, you can watch the cooks make your food. Basically, they specialized in different slow cooked meats, usually as sandwiches…But you can get soups, stews, wraps, and all sorts of things.”

“That sounds impressive.” Daicid lightly tapped a button on his side of the table and peered at the menu that appeared. Sure enough, there was a massive list of foods he could get, as well as side dishes. Slowly, he scrolled through the list, occasionally tapping the name of a dish to see what it contained.

Finally, he settled for what amounted to a slice of slow cooked roast with a side of steamed vegetables, and a small cup of soup. Clayton, meanwhile, opted to get an avian type meat that was mixed with grain and eggs, then wrapped up in some sort of fried flat bread with a side of dipping sauce. All and all, it just served to amaze Daicid on the wide variety of foods available in the city.

“How many of these foods are Orussid cultural foods and how many have come from other cultures?” He asked as he picked through the vegetables; there were a few he didn’t care for.

“Almost everything is from other cultures. The Orussid’s general idea of food was to basically just skewer meat and put it over a fire, if they even bothered to do that…At least, initially. When someone gets cocooned, their memories get pulled into the hive because part of Orussid physiology is genetic memory. So, as the Orussid started pulling in different species, their knowledge expanded.” Lightly, Clayton shrugged. “Once they decided that they didn’t want to warmonger anymore, they started experimenting with foods.”

“Fascinating. I’ve noticed that some of the eateries are entirely operated by Orussid. Is this just an instance of coincidence or are those foods more…Orussidy?”

“Depends.” He brought up the menu and pointed at a symbol next to one of the food choices. It looked like a W, but the outside lines seemed to curl inwards. “That indicates an Orussid created food. If you see places with that symbol below their name, it means they _only_ serve Orussid created foods.”

“A handy indicator. I’ll keep that in mind, because I’m always interested in trying new things.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda something that’s difficult for the Orussid. Since they’re a hive mind and _do_ have that genetic memory, they never forget what’s happened in their past. So, for the longest time, they really didn’t see the need for art, culture, and that sort of thing. They didn’t realize that just about every other civilization out there loves that sort of thing.” Clayton quietly laughed.

“Is that part of why King Sabaton has been so cautious in opening New Elysium to outsiders?” Daicid pounced on the chance to learn more about Clayton’s policies. As it stood, unless he had proof that said otherwise, he was convinced the man in front of him was the king.

“It was. The Orussid stayed closed off for literal centuries and so he didn’t want culture shock since there’s a lot of different…Nuances in dealing with the different species. Unlike them, he’d done some traveling and was more familiar with things.”

“Which is why when he defeated the Council of Queens, he become King because he had more experience with the outside world?” He tilted his head to the side, curiously.

“Bingo. Like I told you: the Orussid like people suited for the job. So, who better to lead the Orussid than an Orussid with experiences different than the current leaders?” Clayton finally pushed his dishes to the side to indicate that he was done eating. “I mean, like any leader, he’s made some policies that not everyone has agreed with, but…”

“You can’t make everyone happy.” Daicid finished for him. “It’s a matter of the greater good, and frankly, politics are a sticky quagmire on the best of days.”

“Yup! Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Anyway. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go hunting.”

Rather than going to the stables, Clayton led Daicid into the capitol building. “I’m planning on bow hunting, and I took the bows up to my room to check them over. Sorry, it’ll just be a quick detour.”

“No, it’s fine.” If anything, Daicid felt curious about seeing how the other man might live, but felt disappointed when he was told to stay out in the hallway. Still, he caught a brief glimpse of the living area before Clayton closed the door. In the middle of the room was a table with a hologram above it. He couldn’t tell what was on the hologram, exactly, but it appeared to be a travel route of some sort.

Quietly, he waited and then looked to the door when Clayton stepped out with two bows and two quivers of arrows. “That seems like a very low-tech way of hunting.”

“Sure, but we’re going after avians. Can’t use anything too high caliber or there won’t be anything left, and honestly? I hate having to clean around burn marks _or_ pick out bird shot. So…Old fashion it is.” He passed Daicid a bow and quiver. “Figure it might be a good way to see if you know how to use one. When we went riding a few weeks ago, you said you didn’t know if you had or not and you ended up riding like a pro.”

“A fair point.” Daicid took the items and examined the bow as he followed Clayton. A faint memory darted around, just out of reach. One where he swore he was a child, with someone older crouched down behind him, instructing him on how to hold his bow. “I think I might know how to use one.”

“Yeah? Once we get out of the city, you can try shooting at something and we’ll see if you’re right or not. Anyway. We’ll take Fox and Sue again. You seemed to do pretty well on her, last time.”

When they got to the stable, Daicid quietly fussed over Sue and laughed when she tried to frisk him for treats. “I think she missed me.”

“She’s pretty friendly. I always put people I think are new to riding on her, but even though you’re not, she seems to like you.” Clayton gave a final look over of Fox’s gear before climbing into the saddle. “Basically, we’re going to head out like we’re going to the ruins, but then head west before we reach them. That’ll take us through a small patch of jungle before we get to the plains. We’ll be hunting Lanuki, which are these waist high at the back avian critters.”

Daicid slowly nodded as he rode alongside Clayton. “Sounds like a nice ride. What do the Lanuki look like?”

“Males blend in with the grass and are mottled greens. The females are the bigger, colorful ones and tend to be oranges, purples, and blues. Keep an eye out for the females, because she usually has herself a harem of two or three males. So, if we find her, we find what we’re looking for.”

“That’s unusual. Generally, it’s the opposite with a male having a harem.” He glanced over to Clayton, curiously.

“New Elysium doesn’t have much in way of apex predators. Most predators are small and tend to scavenge, so you get some weird shit that pops up. The hens have multiple mates because it means diverse offspring. Basically, not hedging all the genetic traits onto one male. Just ‘cause he’s healthy, doesn’t mean he’s not a carrier for something.”

Slowly, Daicid nodded. “And none of the males will know which egg is his, thus, he has to care for all of the eggs or risk harming his own offspring.”

“You got it. So, Lanuki are pretty common things. Honestly, we could really hunt the females, but they tend to have tougher meat because they’re the ones who fight.” Clayton laughed and looked over at Daicid. “Meaning, you can always tell which female is the alpha one in the local area by how many males she has trailing after her.”

“It will never cease to amaze me at the diverse wildlife that different planets can have.” Daicid mused as they reached the small patch of jungle Clayton mentioned. There, the other man came to a stop.

“Alrighty, time to see if you’re good with a bow. See those mushrooms on the tree over there.” He pointed at large, bright blue mushrooms that grew horizontally along the tree truck. “Try shooting at that big, huge one in the center. You get bonus points if you can bullseye it.”

Not one to back down from a challenge, Daicid picked up his bow and notched an arrow. It felt familiar, as if he’d done this thousands of times before. He pulled back the bowstring, and quietly eyed his target. This bow had technology attached to it to make aiming easier, but he had a distinct feeling that he was used to a much older style of bow.

When the arrow pierced its target, he looked over to Clayton, not bothering to hide his smug smirk.

This caused Clayton to raise his eyebrows in surprise, but then grin. “Looks like you have plenty of interesting skills. It really makes you wonder where you’re from.”

“I wish I knew.” Daicid lied.

From a brief moment, the expression on Clayton’s face made him think the man knew better, but as quickly as it formed, it was gone and left him wondering if he’d imagined it. Clayton continued speaking, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Hey, whatever you remember is better than what you arrived with. The fact that you’re even remembering things is amazing. Some people show up and because of the cause of their memory loss, there’s nothing the healers can do. Those tend to be the people who had head injuries, though.”

“You’re right, but let’s avoid such unpleasant things today. I’m eager to see the Lanuki. You’ve painted an interesting picture of them.” Much like Clayton had done when they first met, he carefully directed the conversation away from himself. In a way, he found it ironic that he was trying to hide things about himself where he’d previously been so open.

“You know what? You’re right. Let’s just forget about the whole bullshit of work, politics, and all that crap. Even if we don’t find any Lanuki, it’s still good fun because it’s honestly nice out here. I don’t think it’s going to rain, either.” Lightly, Clayton nudged Fox into a steady trot. “Tell you what. If we don’t see anything up in the plains, I’ll take you to a couple nice places I’ve found. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds fantastic.”


	11. Hold On

_It's gonna be a long ride  
_ _We're takin' it into overdrive_

Steadily, Daicid settled into the new additions to his usual routine. Thor happily flooded his inbox with pictures of the places he went. The pictures ranged from monuments and statues to wonderous space phenomena. Occasionally, he was sent pictures of random animals that his ‘brother’ had found. Many times, Thor held the animal while grinning like a loon. On top of the frequent communications with Thor, Daicid also had his weekly lunches with Clayton. The other man’s schedule permitting, of course.

Ah, Clayton. The man still proved to be an enigma and Daicid hadn’t managed to worm past the blatant walls he’d put up to guard himself from the world. Not that Daicid was one to talk. It still puzzled him on how Clayton had managed to become King, considering his hybrid state and, well, being male…Given that the Orussid were a matriarchal society. Maybe he was completely wrong about the man being royalty, but too many things suggested that the idea was right. It didn’t help that anytime he tried to dig into Clayton’s past on the Archive, he’d suddenly start getting connection issues.

Three months ago, he’d simply assumed it to be coincidence. Now, he honestly felt that someone was actively trying to prevent his search. The issues always started out with his connection slowing down, before shifting to the Archive pages only partially loading, before finally refusing to load at all. It both baffled him and made him even more determined to find out what the man was hiding.

Of course, he needed to plot and plan on what he was going to do. Obviously, he couldn’t outright ask Clayton, not only because of the risk of being kicked off planet if he was right, but also the potential of the man simply lying. The fact that his Archive connection was, apparently, being monitored also made things difficult. It meant he couldn’t simply procure supplies to say…Hack the security pad to Clayton’s apartment. No, he’d have to go a roundabout way.

This is where Thor came in. Daicid casually sent a message to the man, asking when the Guardians would be in the general neighborhood since he wanted to sit down and have a lunch with him. Thor, of course, was quite eager to visit and stated that he’d be able to meet up in about two weeks. So, he waited and continued on with life as normal.

When Thor arrived, Daicid took him to a favored eatery, all while the other man happily told him about his latest adventure. “You seem to be having quite the galactic adventure, Thor.”

“I am. It’s not too different from when I would defend the worlds who pledged fealty to Asgard.” Thor rumbled out a laugh as he sat down at the table with his food. “Except I get paid now. Back then, I enjoyed the praise they gave me, but…Priorities change, I suppose. While I wouldn’t mind doing it for free, I realize that traveling isn’t free and so I let Quill figure out the payment fees.”

Daicid slowly nodded as he sipped on his drink. “I have a small favor to ask of you. A request, really. Would it be possible for you to purchase a security pad descrambler for me? I’ll pay you back, of course. The security pad to my apartment will occasionally act up and forget my password. I’ve contacted maintenance numerous times about it, but they can’t find anything wrong…Which means I’ve gotten locked out of my apartment after hours and had to wait for someone to show up and unlock it for me…Then pay absurd fees for something they won’t fix.”

“I can see how that would be a hassle.” Thor mused, quietly, but then nodded. “I don’t know much about them, but I can talk to Quill or Nebula. They would know more than me. When I find one for you, do you want me to let you know or just ship it?”

“Just ship it and let me know the cost so I can pay you back.”

“Of course. Now, Daicid, how has life been treating you? I’ve talked about everything I’ve been doing, but you’ve hardly mentioned anything about yourself.” He pulled his drink closer to himself and focused on Daicid.

“Well, work has been steady, and actually picking up a bit since offworld visitor requirements have been loosened. I don’t really mind it because…” Most of what he talked about was filler, mainly because he didn’t fully trust Thor. Sure, the man had popped up in his memories in various fashions, but he just…Didn’t have that good of a feel for his personality. Plus, he had no desire to talk about Clayton and the actual reason he’d requested the descrambler. Still, what he talked about seemed to satisfy the other man.

After lunch, they made their way back to the ship port where the rest of the Guardians waited. Much to Daicid’s exasperation, Thor dragged him onboard the ship to give a quick tour. Despite the minor irritation, he was willing to tolerate it if it meant he got the security descrambler he wanted. Of course, the quick tour ended up turning into a bit longer since Thor wanted him to, personally, meet each of the Guardians. Still, this ended up being to his benefit since he was able to explain, exactly what he wanted.

While, initially, Daicid didn’t care for the small, talking, furry creature named ‘Rocket’, he quickly changed his mind when Rocket seemed to perk up.

“Oh yeah! I know what’cha talking about. They’re kinda pricey.” At Daicid’s frown, Rocket suddenly grinned, impishly. “That’s why I make my own! It’s part of our standard gear, so I always keep a few extra on hand. Come’re and I’ll give you one and show you how to use it.”

“That would be absolutely fantastic. Thank you.” Curiously, Daicid followed Rocket to what seemed to be a very messy workstation with tools, wires, and all other manner of electronic devices scattered across the table. Within a few moments, a device that almost looked haphazardly put together, complete with tape, was shoved into his hands.

“Aight so. Pretty much all security pads will have an access port flap. Some of the real pricey new ones don’t so you gotta use a different device, but most of the ones will still have a port. So, anyway, you plug this here into the port, tap the button, give it a few moments, and boom. You’re in. It ain’t the prettiest thing, but like I said: it’ll get you in.”

Daicid offered Rocket a smile, both out of gratitude and because his plan has suddenly had several stages completed. Now, he simply had to wait for the appropriate time. “Thank you, I greatly appreciate it…Mostly because you’ve saved me a great deal of money. Can you believe they charge me 150 credits per after hours visit?”

Rocket scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, that’s some grade A bullshit right there. Can see why you were wanting to buy one. Well, you can keep it. They only take me a few hours to make and the parts are fuckin’ cheap. I’m always making ‘em ‘cause these knuckleheads are always losing ‘em.”

“They get broken!” Quill exclaimed, incredulously and Rocket immediately dismissed him.

This caused Daicid to send the man an amused look before, once more, thanking Rocket then saying his farewells and leaving. After carefully tucking the device into the inner pocket of his jacket, he shifted his thoughts on just _when_ and _how _he should try breaking into Clayton’s apartment. For the first question, he suspected that it’d be best to do it either when the man was offworld or when he was wrapped up in day long meetings. As for the second, well, he had part of the answer already. The next problem would be just how to keep himself from being seen by cameras. Although, Thor had already half solved that. He’d mentioned Daicid having had the ability to cast illusions and frequently doing so to cause general mischief. If this were the case, how hard would it be to cast something around himself to render him invisible?

As it turned out, surprising hard. It took close to two weeks of an hour of practice each day before he figured out how to render something invisible for any notable amount of time. The first few days, alone, had been dedicated on how to make a realistic looking illusion. Honestly, the biggest issue had been making the illusions _last_. It wouldn’t do him any good to cast an illusion just for the thing to fail a few minutes later.

Still, each piece of his plan was falling into place. Now, the only thing preventing him from carrying it out was finding an instance when Clayton would be away from his apartment. Daicid, at least, was patient and knew that rushing his plan would not only be disastrous but also quite risky for himself. Logically, it’d be just a good idea in general to just…Disregard the plan entirely and continue on with his life. He’d considered the notion a fair few times but the numerous questions he had about Clayton kept creeping back into his mind.

Still, the prime opportunity presented itself when Clayton had to decline their usual weekly lunch due to two, day long meetings that he had back to back. Daicid, of course, expressed his sympathy and understanding, but mentally made a note to himself. This would likely be the only chance that he had for the foreseeable future.

So, on the day of the first meeting, he took the day off from work and started making his way to the capitol building. Thanks to having been to Clayton’s apartment a few times, he knew exactly where to go. As he walked, he cast two illusions, the first was a body double, and he sent it on towards the stables. The second one rendered him invisible.

Thankfully, he didn’t encounter anyone, which meant he could focus more on keeping the illusion up rather than having to squeeze by Orussid. Upon reaching Clayton’s apartment, he pulled out the descrambler Rocket had given him and hoped that the security pad was an older one. Precious seconds ticked by as he felt around for the port and he bit back a sound of triumph when he found it. He’d tried it on the security pad at his own apartment, so he knew what to expect.

When the security pad flashed red and tossed up an error, Daicid’s breath hitched in his throat. He tapped the ‘run sequence’ button again. This time, the pad flashed green and he heard the soft sound of the door unlocking. Quite quickly, he slipped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, then, about jumped out of his skin when the lights automatically came on. He blinked a few times and slowly looked around, feeling slight disappointed at how mundane things seemed.

Still, it gave him a moment to drop the illusion and rest while he started poking around. Really, the apartment looked like any standard living space with a handful of dirty dishes on the coffee table, the jacket Clayton often wore while riding had been tossed over the back of a chair, and a fuzzy blanket that’d been wadded up on the couch. However, the table drew his interest since he’d seen a hologram above it in the past.

Walking over to it, he gently touched it to activate it. Immediately, it populated with information that, he supposed, might be important to Clayton. The top of the hologram detailed current weather conditions and had the standard three day forecast while the middle listened current headlines of galactic news. However, it was the sides and bottom that drew his attention: three different inboxes. The left had the heading ‘King Shit’ and all the messages were addressed to ‘King Sabaton’. Meanwhile, the right had been titled ‘Speaker Fuckery’ with the messages being addressed to ‘Mr. Barker’. The bottom didn’t have a title and seemed to be more of a personal nature.

Well, the names of everything certainly seemed on brand for Clayton. Still, it didn’t exactly prove that Clayton was the king, even if it gave strong evidence. Turning off the table, he continued exploring and found himself in the bedroom. There, he found several plants on the window sill, something that honestly surprised him since the man didn’t seem to be to sort to be interested in gardening. However, what was on the bed gave Daicid pause.

One of the King’s royal garbs couldn’t be anymore proof. Certainly, Clayton could be acting as a double, but…Too much evidence said otherwise. Picking up the helmet, he brushed his fingers over the face of it, marveling in the craftmanship. Turning it over yielded another surprise when the inside of the mask turned on to reveal a head’s up display. Fascinating. Setting it back down, he returned to the living room area.

There, he did a bit of a doubletake when he found the hologram had turned itself back on. He swore the display briefly staticed, and walked over to investigate. There, he squinted slightly when he found the ‘King Shit’ message inbox had been renamed ‘Junk Messages’. Something wasn’t right. A chill crept up his spine as the sensation of not being alone began settling in and he turned around to look behind himself out of sheer paranoia. Yet, that thought was absurd. He was the only one in the apartment, as the unsettled looking around revealed.

Then, he happened to glance up at the ceiling and locked ‘eyes’ with what was very obviously a camera. Why would Clayton have a camera in his apartment? Glancing towards the bedroom showed _another_ camera. Were they active? Then, he swore he heard the soft sound of a woman laughing, barely audible and it could have passed for being in another apartment.

Turning back around, he stared at how the hologram had shut itself off. “…What.”

Perhaps it would be best to leave. As he started for the door, the sound of something on the other side caused him to momentarily freeze and scramble to toss up the illusion, as well as back away from the door. Seconds later, someone wearing the full King’s garb stepped in and briefly fumbled with the latches on the helmet in order to get it off.

Clayton tucked it under his arm and started for the bedroom, his tail swishing in irritation. “That was a load of _bullshit_.”

With the other man in the other room, presumably ungarbing, Daicid oozed over to the door, very intent on leaving. Unfortunately, for him, the door refused to unlock. It was as if all the access pad had suddenly decided to turn itself into a security pad.

“Your package arrived.” A female voice commented. The voice held an almost synthetic edge to it and lacked any accent to it.

“Yeah?” Clayton stepped out of the bedroom wearing a loose, long sleeved shirt; the irritated swish to his tail had calmed down. “Where did it get put?”

“Over by the door.”

Daicid glanced over his shoulder as Clayton started walking over. There wasn’t a package by the door, and he wondered if whoever was talking to Clayton could see through the illusion. After all, he had no idea if the illusion protected against thermal imaging or if it was only a visual thing. Carefully, he moved away from the door, close to the kitchen area.

“I don’t see it, Angel.” Clayton stopped and nudged at the bag of trash to see if it’d been put beside it.

“Oh, my mistake. It’s over by the fridge.” The voice had shifted into something amused and Clayton simply sighed. Daicid, meanwhile, felt the anxiety creeping up into his chest. Whoever the voice was, _could_ see him.

“…Yeah. I’m not really in the mood for this.” Clayton sighed. “Can you drop the whole invisibility bullshit?”

Rather than responding or doing what he’d been asked, Daicid began carefully skirting around the room to try and get to the door again. Perhaps he could use the descrambler on this side of the door to get it to unlock.

Again, Clayton sighed and this time pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Just stop.”

The sudden inability to move, of feeling someone inside his mind caused a wave of panic to surge up and the memories to come forth, unwanted.

_He fell from the Rainbow Bridge, heard Thor screaming his name, and closed his eyes as the portal enveloped him. The sudden impact knocked his breath out of his lungs and he barely managed to flop onto his back. An alien he’d never seen before peered down at him and he peered up at it curiously._

The memory suddenly blurred, shifting into a brief snippet of somewhere hot and sandy before twisting into something new.

_Each day, at least he assumed it to be each day, they dragged him out of his prison cell and using the scepter, kept him from moving. Used the scepter to make his nerves sing in pain, yet never leaving a mark. They used it to comb his mind, to extract every little bit of useful information from him. Then they used what they found to try to break him._

_Really, he didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he’d endured. It could have been days, it could have been weeks. All he knew was unending pain and torment. All while they tried to make him their puppet to do only the Norn knew what._

The memory blurred and tried to twist itself from the floating rock to a green field, or meadow. The plaintive mooing call of some sort of animal. A soft nicker of a horse coming up behind him. However, his memories refused to be stopped, yet he felt the nightmareish hold on him lessen.

_Each of his nerves burned as if they’d been set on fire, but it was a cold fire. One that sunk into his very bones and threatened to consume him from the inside out. He didn’t know how long he’d endured the pain. It felt like hours, but he knew that it could easily be mere minutes. The pain seemed to intensify and he soundlessly screamed, his voice having failed him quite some time ago. Suddenly, the pain ceased, leaving him limp and too weak to do anything but lay there. Pathetically._

_The Other leered down at him and prodded him with the butt of the Scepter, seemingly to check to see if he still lived. Daicid wished that it’d killed him. In front of him, Thanos lazed on his throne, seeming almost bored. “Continue. He hasn’t broken, yet.”_

_He rasped out something in attempt to beg for it to stop, but either his voice was too soft, or they simply didn’t care. The Other jabbed the tip of the Scepter into his chest again, and he felt himself arch up from the pain that suddenly radiated outwards from where the weapon pierced his skin. He didn’t know what Thanos wanted with him, why the alien hadn’t simply killed him._

_The tip of the Scepter was suddenly twisted and he managed to scream._

Almost violently, the memories shifted and he felt the presence of someone else alongside him. Thanos’ kingdom of floating rocks blurred and turned themselves inside out into a mountainous area at sunset. He sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the edge, uncaring about the danger such an act presented. Instead, he scooped a bit out dip out of a container with a chip and happily munched on it; _that wasn’t his hand. His hand didn’t look like that. This wasn’t his memory._

Again, the memory shifted. He stood at the helm of a ship, a cup of coffee in hand. _He hated coffee; the stuff was bitter and repulsive_. In front of the ship was a planet with aurora that danced over the northern hemisphere to the backdrop of a purple and red nebula. Once more the memory flipped. He was still at the helm of the ship, but this time, with impossibly tall clouds on either side of the ship; white hot plasma arced between the clouds and he felt the amusement when two ships blew past overhead, unable to find him. Each time the memory changed, he felt the panic his memories had brought him loosen its hold on him.

“…--re you alright?” The voice that spoke held the usual rasp all Orussid had and Daicid couldn’t muster the energy to move.

“I’ve got a massive fucking migraine, that’s what.” Clayton’s voice held a bit of a groan and his words sounded slightly slurred. “I’m okay, though.”

“A migraine is _not_ okay.” The Orussid scolded him, sharply. “You somehow managed to form a brief mental connection with him, and considering your overall telepathic inexperience, I’m shocked you managed to pull yourself out of it on your own. You need training and can’t keep ignoring it.”

“I can and will ignore plenty of things about myself.” He snapped, then muttered out a soft ‘ow’.

Touching the side of his head, Daicid slowly opened his eyes. While he didn’t have a migraine or anything similar, he felt utterly drained, both physically and mentally. Immediately, he had an Orussid hovering over him; behind the creature, Clayton had all but flopped down in a chair.

Rather than being concerned about his own health, he felt the concern about potentially being booted off world. After all, he hadn’t anticipated Clayton’s apartment having cameras in it, the person watching it, nor…Whatever the fuck had happened. Ignoring the indignant sound of the Orussid, he slowly sat up, focused on Clayton, and spoke softly. “Please don’t kick me off the planet. I’ll leave you alone, I swear. I was simply curious on why you insist on hiding who you are.”

“I’m not going to kick you off the planet.” Clayton tossed an arm over his eyes as he tilted his head back. “I’ve known about your digging around for awhile now. Probably my mistake for not doing anything about it, but I was actually kinda curious on if you’d try anything.”

“What? How did you know?” He glanced at the Orussid who finally moved away from him to check over Clayton.

“Xena ti—”

“Sup, bitch.” The female voice from before spoke and interrupted Clayton who merely gestured blindly at where the voice came from.

“Yeah, her. Anyway. She tipped me off that you were looking for me on the Archive.”

“…The connection errors.” Daicid mused, more to himself than anything.

“Then, when you came around as a woman, that kinda suggested to me that you were maybe a little bit more curious about things than I thought. So, I sent that message to you, figuring it’d spook you off. Guess it didn’t really work. But yeah, I’ve known about your plans for a few weeks, now. But like I said, I didn’t think you’d actually try something. Guess I was a bit of a dumbass.”

“I…How did you know all of that?” He supposed that some of what he’d done could have been picked up on camera.

“I’m the race’s most powerful telepath, duh.” Clayton started but made a slight noise of pain at being prodded by the Orussid. “Whaaaaat?”

“Considering the current situation, I’d hardly call you ‘powerful’ in any sense of the word. Not only did you knock the both of you unconscious, you have a migraine, and I‘m frankly surprised you didn’t boil his brain.”

“I didn’t though. So…It turned out.” Finally, he sighed. “Look, are you going to keep bitching at me, or are you going to grab the cup of coffee I asked for fifteen minutes ago? I’m _fine_, fucking Christ. The whole reason I don’t practice is because I get migraines, and you damn well know it.

“You wouldn’t get migraines if you practiced more and worked through the pain.” Still, the Orussid huffed and walked to the kitchen area. It left Daicid feeling a bit awkward and unsure of what to do.

“Perhaps…I should leave?” He started and immediately cringed at the glare the Orussid gave him.

“No. I’m still unsure if there was any damage done. Given the situation, it’d be better if you stayed here, given that I live a few doors down and _you_ live on the other side of the city.”

“Pro-tip: Just nod your head and say okay. Zeki can be hella scary when she gets mad.” Clayton commented before sighing and taking the cup of coffee to gingerly sip on it.

“As I should be, considering how poorly you take care of yourself. It’s a wonder you keep your doctor appo—” She abruptly stopped speaking, and bowed her head as if she’d just been reprimanded. “Apologies…”

“Look. I’ll be fine. If anything happens, you know Xena will contact you.” Slowly, Clayton got out of his chair and started for the bedroom, muttering about he needed something for his head.

Zeki watched him for a moment before sighing and looking at Daicid. “I wasn’t able to find anything wrong with you, but I imagine it would be better if you just stayed here until morning, just in case.”

“No, I agree. I honestly feel exhausted.”

“It might be best to take it easy. Either way, if anything happens, Xena will contact me, or you can request for her to contact me.” After giving him a slight nod, Zeki slipped out of the apartment, leaving Daicid to feel somewhat nervous.

This feeling only intensified when Clayton returned to the living room. Honestly, he didn’t know what to expect now that they were alone. After all, his attempt at finding out more information had turned into a massive mess. So, he sat there, silent, and fiddled with the blanket while the other man flopped back down into the chair with a groan.

“I feel like shit, I’m hungry, and I feel like having something absolutely unhealthy.” His head flopped over to the side so he could watch Daicid. “How ‘bout you?”

“I can agree with that.” He wasn’t sure why Clayton wasn’t angry with him, but his thoughts halted when the other man sighed loudly.

“Because I was a dumbass and didn’t really do anything to dissuade you. So, some of this mess is kind of my fault…And sorry. Having a migraine means I’m pretty much just picking up everyone’s thoughts right now. Luckily, you’re the only non-Orussid in the local area, so it’s not too bad.”

“…Ah. Well. May I suggest Captain’s Chance of Luck? They have a…” He blinked when Clayton interrupted him.

“Big ass chunk of meat that they shave for your wraps. Yeah, I know ‘em. Love that place.” He offered Daicid a slight smile. “Sounds good to me. Order what you want, I’ll pay for it.”


	12. A Bigger Story Left to Tell

_I hold onto the notion, that I just wasn't born to die  
_ _Buried beneath the motion of life, I never stop to question why_

They ate in silence, largely because Daicid didn’t really know what to say or if he should even say anything. He felt that he needed to tread carefully, considering what he’d done…Despite what Clayton had told him. His thoughts were interrupted by the man in question sighing loudly as he tossed a lid onto the coffee table. “Just ask your questions. ‘Cause, obviously, you figured out that I was lying about myself.”

Looking down, he lightly thumbed the pressed design on the side of the cup that held his soup. While Clayton shared part of the blame for their current situation and had repeated that he wasn’t angry, Daicid still couldn’t help but to be concerned. “Why? I mean, why do you feel the need to hide yourself?”

“That ties back into Orussid history. You remember me telling you about how they were shock troopers and the Asgardians nearly wiped them off the face of the galaxy?” When Daicid confirmed, Clayton continued. “Well, that all happened thousands of years ago, but there’s still a few civilizations who’ve held some grudges. With Orussid being a hivemind, getting rid of the leader means a good chunk will straight up die from the shock of it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty noticeable when it comes to my appearance.”

“So, it’s an act of safety, for multiple reasons.” Daicid mused before tilting his head slightly. “How _did_ you end up looking like that and become the Orussid King?”

“Mom was a Xandarian smuggler and found Moranna’s last eggs. Her and her crew ended up waking the eggs up. There was apparently something weird with Moranna’s eggs and it caused the crew to mutate. Most ended up dying from it and Mom was the only one who wasn’t changed, at least she thought. It changed her genetics, but she didn’t find out about this till she settled on Earth, Terra, and shacked up with my dad. Mom had a few miscarriages with not quite human babies before I came along. In my early twenties, I ended up getting a pretty severe flu, cold, _something_ and I mutated. I only found out about all that after I found the Orussid.” Clayton quietly laughed and looked down at his hands for a moment.

“I actually was a bounty hunter for a few years. The Orussid have a group they call The Singers, who every three or four years reach out to try and find wayward Orussid and bring them home. I heard them in my dreams and went to investigate. The rest of the story I told you is true.” Finally, he shrugged. “So, I’ve been leading them ever since. I kinda miss bounty hunting and just getting to explore, mostly because I was never one who liked to be tied down.”

“Yet…Some of the Orussid disagree with your rule on account of you being…” Daicid hesitated, unsure of what to call Clayton without being offensive. “I’m sorry, I’m unsure of what you call yourself.”

“Bug? Freak?” Clayton shrugged and then grinned slightly. “Doesn’t really matter. I guess hybrid would do. I’m _technically_ a chimera since I’m a weird blend of human and Orussid, but that sounds so…Medical, I guess. But yeah, you’re right. There was a lot of discourse over me being able to rule, and I’m not the type to try and stamp that out unless they start causing issues. More than anything, they just tend to stand around and bitch at me.”

“Why _are_ you able to rule? I was under the impression Orussid were a matriarchal society, or is that just politics?”

“Moranna’s weirdness.” Clayton replied, but didn’t elaborate. That made Daicid quite curious, but considering how open the other man had been so far? He didn’t want to push things.

“Again, I’m sorry…For everything I did. When I find something that catches my interest, it’s hard for me to let it go.”

“Hey, like I said: I’m not innocent in this, either. I had plenty of chances to completely put a stop to it, but I didn’t because I was kinda curious to see how far you’d take things. Though, I gotta say. The shapeshifting thing threw me.” Clayton paused for a moment. “So, Loki’s your actual name?”

“Yes, it is. I prefer not to use it since I only have bits and pieces of my memories. Considering the trauma I’ve seen thus far? I’m not entirely sure I want to remember, but at the same time, I don’t think I have much of a choice since I keep having random memories.” He finished off his soup and looked back to Clayton. “How is it that there’s no record of your existence on the Archives outside of your involvement with New Elysium?”

“Well, Earth is pretty backwater compared to much other planets and isn’t part of the Archive. On top of that, Xena is goddamned amazing and kept my presence on the Archive to a minimum as part of my bounty hunting work. So, a lot of it is just that I, officially, don’t exist. All of my credentials are forgeries.”

“Xena is your assistant, I’m assuming?” Daicid found it odd that he’d never seen the woman in all the time he’d been here.

“Xena is more than that. She’s…Amazing.” A fond look formed on Clayton’s face. “I don’t even know how to describe her anymore. She helps me out in my day to day life as an assistant, manages my meetings, brings important things to my attention…But she also supervises the fleet and keeps an eye out for people who poke around in things they shouldn’t.”

“…She’s not alive in the way you and I are, is she?” He’d begun to get the sensation that ‘Xena’ was actually a computer program of some sort.

“You’d be right. Originally, she was a ship AI. Now? Well, she’s not alive in the flesh and blood sense, but she’s still _alive_. I think she’s the first of her kind: true, independent, artificial life.”

“You speak of her as one might a lover.” Daicid gently teased, prompting Clayton to shake his head.

“No, a parent would be closer. I’ve watched her grow from being a ship AI into what she is now. Encouraged it, actually. She’s pretty much my best friend and I guess I’m just proud of what she’s turned into.” He offered a faint smile. “It’s one of those things that’s really hard to explain, I guess.”

“I think it simply took me off guard with how fondly you speak of her, since I’ve never heard you talk about anyone in a similar manner.” Daicid frowned, still having a number of questions but unsure of which ones would really be appropriate to ask since many were of a more personal nature. Clayton had opened up, yes, but he didn’t want to abuse that.

“Since you’ve gotten to ask a bunch of questions, I gotta ask: why were you so interested in finding out if I was the king or not?”

Daicid hesitated, the question not unreasonable, but still taking him a bit off guard. “Don’t take this in a negative way, but your unique appearance intrigued me. I also always had the feeling that you were either hiding the whole story or telling me half-truths, and I was curious as to why. It also didn’t make much sense to me that the Orussid would employ a hybrid as their Speaker when I’ve encountered a number of Orussid who could speak Basic proficiently.”

“Fair enough.” Clayton laughed, then winced as he rubbed above his left eye. “I’m not really a people person so, I kinda threw out some BS and called it good since I didn’t really expect you to be interested enough that you’d pick apart my story. I still find it kind of ironic that I’m such an introvert and managed to become king of a frickin’ hive mind.”

“I suppose it’s because I try to be analytical when I find something that interests me. If I’m honest, it was seeing the Royal Entourage that started everything because I saw how you and several other Orussid were similar in height. That was what set me down the path of digging into your history and then trying to find more information. Although, if it’s worth anything, I do enjoy your company and our weekly lunches.” Lightly, he frowned at Clayton’s wince. “Do you still have a headache?”

“Those are my body doubles. I tend to go with a few guards, the King’s Guard, and then three or four doubles…That way, if there’s multiple days where I have public meetings, I can pick a different double each day.” The question caused Clayton to give a faint smile. “Unfortunately. It’s feeling better, though. It’ll probably stick around for the rest of the evening, which tends to be pretty typical when I get a migraine.”

“That _is_ unfortunate.” He frowned and then quietly sighed. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Nah, go for it. Just watch the sensor at the sink. It’s not very sensitive and I’ve been too lazy to get maintenance up here to fix it.”

“Noted.” Getting up, Daicid slipped into the bedroom and as much as he would have enjoyed poking around a bit more, simply went into the bathroom where he closed the door behind him. While he really didn’t feel the need to use it, he simply wanted a moment where he wasn’t being watched by either Clayton or Xena. Quite likely, Clayton had already picked up on that, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Pushing away from the door, he quietly washed his face before glancing around the bathroom. Everything seemed quite benign and unremarkable, though he quietly judged the shirt that had been tossed at the hamper, hadn’t quite made it, and had been left on the floor. However, a small box sitting on the counter next to the sink caught his attention.

It was a prescription of some sort for Clayton from a doctor by the name of Vihas Batraz with the instructions ‘apply one patch to abdomen weekly, remove old patch before placing a new one, and rotate the application site each week’. Daicid didn’t recognize the medication printed on the box and after a quick check for cameras, took a picture of the box with his communicator. Chances were, it was something for headaches or something similar, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity.

After a moment longer, he returned to the front living area where Clayton was fiddling with a tablet. “Do you think Zeki will notice if I slip out and go home?”

“At some point.” Clayton glanced up, with a grin on his face. “You’ll have to excuse her. She’s pretty much my personal doctor and takes her job seriously. But nah. I think if something was going to happen, it would have happened, already. So, if you want to sneak out, now’s probably you best chance since she’s in the middle of eating dinner.”

Daicid nodded and started for the front door but paused. “Clayton…Are you still wanting to have our weekly lunch next week?”

“Yeah. I figure we still have stuff to talk about but neither of us are really feeling good right now. Shoot me a message with your work schedule and I’ll see where my schedule jives and we can meet up.”

“Certainly.” He lightly bowed his head and slipped out of the apartment, then quickly made his way out of the capitol building. Quite a few things had happened in the past few hours and he had a lot to think about. It honestly baffled him that Clayton had been so…Fine with everything. The man would have been well within his rights to enact some sort of punishment. Then again, that honestly went against what he knew about the man’s personality thus far.

Daicid quietly sighed when he got back to his own apartment. It was late, but thankfully, he wasn’t working for the rest of the week. That meant he could squeeze in a bit of research, and hopefully, Xena wouldn’t catch on to things. Then again, with Clayton’s secret about being the king known, perhaps she wouldn’t be keeping such a close eye on him.

Plucking up his tablet, he sat down and brought up the picture he’d taken of the prescription box, then typed the drug name into the Archive search. The results were the last thing he’d expected: a weekly birth control designed, not for men, but women. Strange, but he couldn’t rule out the notion of Clayton’s hybrid state meaning he was lacking some sort of hormone. Frowning, he tapped the back of the tablet with his finger.

Returning to the search, he typed in the doctor’s name, already suspecting that they’d be a specialist of some sort. While his initial guess _had_ been correct, he never would have guessed what type of specialist in a thousand years.

Try as he might, Daicid couldn’t think of a single reason on why Clayton would have an obstetrician specializing in hybrid reproduction as a doctor.


End file.
